Stormbreaker
by dominicgrim
Summary: Alim Surana, Surana the Stormbreaker, the Hero of Ferelden, lightning was his sword the wind and rain his shield. The stories of his adventures during the Blight. Male Surana and Leliana pairing. Teen now, maybe mature later, not sure yet, I don't own dragon age of course.
1. Tears in Lothering

**Author's Note: This was just an idea that hit me today, not sure if I will continue it, but if anyone likes this first chapter, please let me know. This will be a male Surana and Leliana pairing. So please leave a review if you want it to continue. Thanks and enjoy! **

**Dragon Age: Stormbreaker**

_This is the story of Alim Surana, the Hero of Ferelden, also known as Alim of the Storm, or Surana the Stormbreaker. What he did during the fifth Blight, and the love he found with the Left Hand of the Divine. Many bards have told tales of the Hero perhaps that is all this is as well; let the historians of Thedas decide._

Part one: Tears in Lothering

3:18 Dragon

It was a sad grey day when the Templars descended on the Bann of Lothering's estate. Rain had fallen for the last two days, two days since it had happened.

It was as if nature itself was in mourning.

A chantry sister accompanied them, it was not standard practice, but Lady Surana was a good Andrastian.

The Revered Mother wanted the elven woman to understand.

Her son was dangerous.

The Templars came to the kennel master's home, a small hovel built off the side of the kennels. It was here that the Surana family had lived since coming to Lothering four years ago. The Father had died six months ago, killed by giant spiders that nested outside the village. His wife and young son remained because the woman was teaching the Bann's daughter music. Her son had become a playmate of sorts for the Bann's youngest son.

Sadly that was no longer safe, the boy had shown signs, for the safety of Lothering…

Little Alim Surana would have to be removed to the Circle of Magi.

The sister spoke quietly to the dark haired elven woman; they sat by the fire, speaking quietly over a cup of tea. The sister wanted her to understand, she needed to understand that what she cared for now was not her child, it was a damned soul, whose magic could harm the whole village if left unchecked. Two days earlier a local boy had been bullying the miller's daughter. The elven boy had stood up to him, the bully, twice the size of the young elfling, had bloodied the boy's nose.

The elven boy had glared up at his tormentor, anger flashing in his eyes.

The lightning came.

A lightning bolt struck the ground at the boy's feet; a bolt that had come from nowhere, only one white puffy cloud hovered over Lothering. The boy had run screaming to his parents. The little elf, so scared by what had happened ran crying to his mother, the sky darkened, clouds appeared from out of nowhere.

The rain had begun to fall.

All this had occurred for one reason and one reason alone.

Lady Surana's son had been angry.

The elven woman's eyes went from anger to fear…her son…her poor little Alim…he had the curse of magic.

Finally came acceptance, her son could no longer stay here; the demons would be coming for him. The older he became the more his powers would grow, attracting even more hungry demons.

For his own good, her son needed to go with the Templars.

Finally with tears in her brown eyes, the elven woman nodded, she called her son to her side, the eight year old elven boy came from where he was helping in the kennels. He was small even for an elf; rail thin, with brown hair, and dark expressive eyes. His pointed ears were quite large, even for one of his kind; they twitched when he was angry or scared.

He took one look at the Templars, his ears twitched wildly.

His Mother had smiled weakly, "You will need to with these nice men Alim," she told him, "they will keep you safe now."

"But Mama," the boy said, his lip quivered with fear, "I…I want to stay with you."

"Do not be frightened young one," the chantry sister said coolly, this is the will of the Maker; you need to go to the tower now."

"No," the boy said angrily, thunder rumbled outside, "I WANT TO STAY WITH MAMA!"

"Alim," his mother cooed.

"No," the boy cried, "Don't send me away Mama, I'll be good…I promise,"

"Alim."

"I won't go!"

Lightning struck in the field outside. The Chantry sister gasped in fear. Her guards acted.

A Templar struck the boy in the back of the head, he fell unconscious.

"ALIM!" the elven woman wailed, "My son! My Alim!"

One the Templars held her arms, as his partner carried the boy away. The elven woman wailed, they had promised they wouldn't hurt her son…

They had promised.

"Calm down, good woman," the Templar holding her barked, "your son is dangerous, he must be properly confined!"

"No," the woman sobbed weakly, "my son…my poor little boy!"

She ceased struggling, the Templar released her, she slumped to the floor of their small hovel.

The chantry sister sat at her side, she did her best to comfort the woman, any child that could summon lightning from the heavens was far too dangerous to remain among innocent people.

It was for the best that he be confined within the Circle.

Lady Surana sobbed; with Alim gone she was all alone, what was left? What could she do?

The sister stayed with her as the Templars left with her son for the circle tower.

The elven boy sobbed quietly after he had awoke, he wanted his mama. He wanted to go home.

One Templars ignored him, but the other actually gave him a sweet, and told him that it would not be so bad, in the circle he would learn to control his talent, once he had mastered himself, and then his Mama would be allowed to visit.

That calmed the child, at least for a time.

He looked back along the road, he missed Lothering, he missed his Mama.

_This is the will of the Maker; you need to go to the tower now._

The elven boys hands twisted into small angry fists, his Mama had always said how good the Maker was, and how the Chantry sisters did his works here in Thedas.

Today Alim had learned the truth. The sisters were not to be trusted, they knew nothing of love.

He would never forgive them for taking him away from his Mama.

He would never forgive them…NEVER!


	2. An Awakening

**Chapter 2: An Awakening**

**9:29 Dragon: The ruins of Ostagar**

Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens had come to Ostagar for one purpose. It was for this purpose that he had braved the late summer heat, and the stinking marshlands that surrounded the ruins of the Fortress of Ostagar. It was for this reason that he was now accompanied by two of the King of Ferelden's finest knights.

He prayed to the Maker he was wrong.

The knights stayed with the horses while Duncan when forth, exploring. He was not sure he knew what he was looking for exactly, but he would know it when he found it.

Two weeks ago the ground has shook for miles around, they had felt it even as far north as Lothering. Chasind barbarians fled north out of the marshes, seeking shelter in the farms and settlements near the wilds. They all told the same the story. A massive explosion had shook the wilds, a cloud of dust and debris had darkened the skies here ever since. The Kings advisors had no answer for this event, but they did not believe that an explosion, no matter how big, in the wilds was any serious threat to Ferelden.

Duncan and the rest of the Grey Wardens disagreed.

About the same time as the explosion had occurred, every warden in their compound in Denerim had bolted out of bed, all of them sharing the same dream.

_Shackles fell away, powerful wings stretched for the first time in millennia. Eyes that should never have opened again turned skyward. Flame filled the prison, burning away the last the restraints._

Laughter filled the prison, mad, malevolent, and terrifying.

Then the world exploded.

Every warden in Ferelden woke in a cold sweat. Two words filled there waking minds, words that filled them with dread.

**I'm free! **

Duncan stared at the distant clouds; he could sense the taint in them even at this great distance. The taint, and with it the darkest of magic.

He took a deep breath, focused, and directed his senses towards those clouds.

That is when he heard it, like music, beautiful and terrible music, and at its core a voice…

_**FREE! FREE! COME TO ME! COME TO ME! IT IS TIME! IT IS TIME! COME! COME! OBEY!**_

Duncan gasped, he nearly fell, but he would not allow himself to do that, he stood firm…barely.

_The voice of an archdemon was a hard thing to endure._

He returned to the horses he needed to…

The horses whickered nervously, something had spooked them badly.

Where were the knights who had accompanied him?

After a brief search he found them, one had hanged, his eyes still wide with fear, the other lay near the edge of a cliff, a sword driven through him.

_A darkspawn blade._

Duncan approached the man, though he knew it was too late for him.

The attack came from behind.

Duncan was ready.

He pulled the tainted sword from the man and used it on his attacker, a large hurlock warrior. A second darkspawn tried to attack him, but the warden commander was too quick.

The spawn ended up falling over the cliff, its death squeals still ringing all the way down.

In the distance lightning, all the colors of the rainbow, lit the darkening clouds, shielded by its cover the darkspawn horde was already beginning to gather.

The Blight was about to begin.

Duncan road hard down the imperial highway, the King needed to be warned, all of Thedas needed to be warned.

_An Archdemon had risen._

Maker help them all!

IOI

_Two months later…_

"Duncan has returned your Majesty."

King Cailan Theirin gathered his body guard and hurried down the bridge to meet the warden commander. Though thirty now he still carried himself with a boyish excitement, the army had performed well so far, three battles and three victories. Though more and more darkspawn continued to gather. Cailan was not worried, he was the son of Maric the Savior, the grandson of Moira the Rebel Queen, he had Loghain Mac Tir, one of the most talented military minds Ferelden had ever produced, and he had the legendary Grey Wardens at his side.

How could they possibly lose?

Cailan was looking for their fourth victory…

The one that would end the Blight!

He spotted Duncan coming up the road and over the bridge to Ostagar. The dark-skinned warden Commander wore his traditional armor, with a sword and dagger sheathed on his shoulders, and beside him…

Wait…what was beside him?

It almost looked like a hat and coat walking without a person wearing it! A long heavy blue travel coat with a tall wide brimmed pointed hat for a head, Cailan would have thought it some magic trick or jest, but then he spotted a small hand coming out of the sleeve, a hand grasping a white wood staff, a staff whose crystal ball top flashed every time its wielder took a step.

Ah, so magic it was then, not a trick, but actual magic.

Duncan's new recruit was a mage!

Cailan smiled, he left quickly eager to meet the Warden and his new recruit.

"Ho there, Duncan!" he called out grinning.

"King Cailan," Duncan said offering a slight bow, "I did not expect a…"

"A royal welcome," the King smiled, "I was beginning to think you would miss all the fun."

Duncan tried not to look put off by the King's enthusiasm, "Not if I could help it Your Majesty."

"So I will have the mighty Duncan at my side after all," Cailan said glancing at the dark clouds in the distance, he could almost taste the victory already, "Glorious!"

The King turned to face Duncan's companion, "The other wardens told me you had found a promising recruit, and I take it this is she?"

"He…actually…Your Majesty," a cultured voice said, the new recruit removed his hat giving the king a better look.

It was an elf, a fairly young one by the look, with short brown hair, and dark eyes, large pointed ears stuck out like wings from the side of his head. The look on his face suggested he was slightly…annoyed at the King's presumption.

Alim Surana snorted.

_She indeed._

IOI

"Allow me to introduce you your Majesty," Duncan offered.

"No need Duncan, we shall soon be shedding blood together after all," the king turned to the elf, ho there friend, might I have your name?"

"Surana, your majesty," the elf replied with a short bow, "Alim Surana, of the…well…I guess formerly of the Ferelden Circle of Magi."

"Pleased to meet you," the King answered, "Every Grey Warden is needed now, I sure they will benefit greatly with you in their ranks."

"We shall see your Majesty," Alim replied.

"So you come to us from the circle, I hope your magics will aid us in the upcoming struggle?"

The mage's smile turned brittle, the King was looking at him like he was some show animal.

Alim did not like that.

Thunder rumbled overhead, Duncan gave the elf a cool look.

The mage sighed; what did Duncan expect, he was not some performing monkey after all.

"I will use all the power at my disposal of course," Alim said diplomatically.

"That is excellent news Ser Mage," the King replied, this was all so exciting.

Alim had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

This was truly the King of Ferelden?

Great, they were all doomed!

IOI

Alim lost interest in the boy-like king's posturing his eyes fell on the grandness of Ostagar. He had spent eleven years locked away in the tower, resigned to his fate, but now through actions beyond his control, he found himself free again.

Not that he completely forgave Jowan of course, or the Chantry sister harlot who had led him to blood magic.

Oh no, Alim had not forgotten her at all, Jowan had convinced him to help them, for the sake of their love for each other. His friend should have listened to him.

Chantry sisters knew nothing about love.

Lily had abandoned Jowan, had refused to go with him after he had used his blood magic to save her from Aeonar. Jowan was alone now, no friends, no lover, with the Templars nipping at his heels like hungry dogs…

And all because he had fallen for a chantry sister.

In the end he had not saved her, Lily went willingly to Aeonar, for contributing to the destruction of all their lives, Jowan a fugitive, and Alim had nearly been executed, he would have if it had not been for Duncan.

He owed the old warden much; he would do what he could to repay that debt.

Not that Alim was entirely safe however, according to Duncan, he and the three other recruits here would have to go through a ritual that the wardens called the joining, it was apparently secret and apparently extremely dangerous.

Just like the Harrowing, the elf thought glumly, like that wasn't bad enough, now he had to face yet another deadly challenge.

_Thanks Jowan. Thanks Lily. _

The sister's involvement in this still burned him.

Alim wished that she would pay dearly for her crimes. Lily was about to find out how merciful the Chantry could be to those it views as dangers.

It was a lesson that Alim had been taught when he was only eight years old.

The King left them then, off to consider himself an honorary Grey Warden perhaps. Alim shook his head, according to Duncan; Cailan wasn't the one planning the battles thank goodness. That task fell to the legendary Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir of Gwaren, the man who had freed the entire country at the battle of Riverdane.

At least they had someone here who knew military strategy.

"Feel free to explore the camp," Duncan informed him, "I ask only that you do not leave it for the time being. There is another Grey Warden here by the name of Alistair. Seek him out and the other recruits, and return to me when you're ready."

"Right," Alim snorted, Duncan had told him a little about Alistair, "the Templar."

"You should think of him as an ex-Templar I think," Duncan reminded him, "he is not like the men who watched over you in the tower. I can promise you that, I only ask that you keep an open mind."

Alim nodded, he would at least try, "Of Course Duncan." He replied.

"Now there are some things I need to attend to, if you need to speak to me, you may find me by the Grey Warden tent just over this bridge."

Alim nodded.

Duncan left him then. Alim slowly made his way across the bridge, slipping his hat down over his ears. Most humans regarded them as funny that is why he wore the thing, that and it gave him an extra foot of height.

He really hated being short, all of the apprentices had used to tease him about that, between that and his ears, no one ever seemed to take him seriously.

Until Duncan that is.

A cold breeze blew across the bridge, making him shiver; winter was not for at least another month, but this far south it was already here, patches of snow could be seen in the valley below.

Alim turned to the dark clouds in the distance; he could see the multi-colored lightning crackling in those clouds.

He shivered, and not just from the cold, he could feel it all around him in the wind, in the grass as they had stood talking to the King, and even if the flames of the small fires around the camp.

Something dark had risen, and it sickened the natural world by its very presence.

Nature itself was under attack, something was looking to turn it black and sick.

They would have to do something about that.

Alim hurried across the bridge, he needed to find this Alistair Warden, and then they would look for the other recruits. The elf was eager to get this joining thing underway.

There was something out there in the wilds, and if they were not careful, it would destroy them all.

Despite what a certain over-eager king thought.


	3. My Brother the Templar

**Chapter 3: My Brother the Templar**

Alim wanted to hate Alistair.

He did, he truly honestly did, but he just…just couldn't do it.

Any man who could be that snarky to a senior enchanter of the circle was someone who had earned his respect.

Not that Alistair had not tried to earn his ire; the first few words out of his mouth had done that.

"So tell me," the former Templar had said, have you ever encountered Darkpawn before?"

"No I haven't," the mage had answered taking off his hat and shaking his head, "Have you?"

Alistair had not responded, he was too busy… staring.

"Alistair," the mage had repeated.

Still the man said nothing.

Alim sighed; he knew what the warden was staring at.

"It is the ears isn't it," he asked.

N-no…I wasn't staring at your ears, you have nothing to ears…I mean fear…I said fear."

Alim shook his head, he sooo, did not need this.

"Oooh-kay Alistair," he said with a sigh, "Let's get this out of the way before we go any further. I get it, I have big ears and I' m short, any jokes those lines let hear them now. That way we can get this out of the way and get down to business."

I didn't mean it," Alistair apologized, "I just had a little; I mean I made a mistake. No more joking ear…I mean here."

Alim growled in the back of his throat, Alistair was very fortunate that Irving had trained the elf to control his temper, if he had not…

Alistair would likely have ended up being cooked by a lightning bolt.

Fortunately, Alim did not do that anymore.

"Please don't turn me into a toad," Alistair said weakly.

A small smirk spread across the elf's face, "No promises…sorry." He turned and left.

Alistair followed after him, offering a quick prayer to the Maker.

Hopefully Alim was not the type to hold a grudge.

IOI

The two made their way through the army camp, now Alim was no military strategist, but even he was impressed by the size and strength of the force that surrounded him.

Maybe they could do it after all; maybe…just maybe…the blight could end here.

Many of the soldiers kept giving Alim strange looks, the elf shook his head.

_What…had they never seen a mage before?_

Of course, Alistair had not thought that he looked like a mage the first time they had met either.

Believe me Alistair," the mage grumbled, "I don't dress like this for my health," he said pointing to his bright yellow robes.

It seemed no matter what happened to today, people were just bound and determined to get on his bad side.

At least his day could not get any worse, right now all he wanted to do was track down his fellow recruits and get on with the joining ritual.

"Greetings, you must be one of the new Grey Wardens…will you receive the Maker's blessing."

Alim turned; he was being greeted by a chantry sister.

His day had just gotten worse, he tried to remain calm, but it wasn't easy.

"You administer to elves do you," he asked sweetly.

"I will administer the Maker's blessing to whoever will receive him," the woman replied smiling serenely.

"And if you don't your soldiers burn down your homeland, and strip away your language, your culture, everything."

"I have no desire to argue politics," the chantry sister frowned, "be gone heathen."

Alim smiled at her, "it was pleasant to meet you too."

Alistair just stood there gawking.

"I can't believe you just did that?"

"Did what?" Alim asked.

"I…you…" Alistair just shook his head, "Never mind…forget it."

"Already done," the elf said smirking.

Alistair shook his head. Alim wasn't an elf; he wasn't even a mage…

He was a storm, rolling through the camp.

Alistair could not decide if that was a good thing or a bad one.

One thing that was for certain, he almost felt sorry for the darkspawn now…

Almost.

Alim paused, something had caught his eye. He moved towards the center of the camp. Alistair trailing after him.

"Alim wait, we…we have to find the others."

"In a minute Alistair," the elf replied, "Ser…excuse me ser," he called out.

He was addressing the Kennel Master; the man looked up at the small elf approaching him.

"Greetings," the man replied, "Is there something I can do for you warden."

"That Mabari there," he asked, "why have you separated him from the others?"

The man gave the dog a sad look, it whimpered weakly in its cage; its brown eyes were cloudy with pain.

"The poor fellow," the kennel master purred, "his owner died in the last battle, and he swallowed darkspawn blood. I have medicine that may help, but I need to muzzle him first."

"Can I help," Alim asked, "I…I have a little experience with working with dogs."

"And as a warden you're immune to the darkspawn taint," the man nodded, "All you have to fear is some tooth marks."

"Well I'm not a warden yet," Alim confessed, "but I will help, if I can?"

The man nodded, letting the mage pass.

Alistair kept his distance; he had never been very good with dogs.

Alim however, was not that way.

He whispered softly to the sick animal, it looked up at him with pain in its eyes, but it did back down from its aggressive stance. Slowly carefully Alim approached it, he let the dog smell him as he slipped the muzzle over its snout, the dog whimpered, but did not try to attack the elf.

He gave the animal a pleased sigh, and left its cage.

"You wouldn't happen to be heading into the wilds anytime soon would you," the kennel master asked.

"I don't know," Alim admitted, "Maybe."

"Well, there is a flower there that might improve the dog's chances; it is bright white with a blood red center. If you could retrieve it…."

Alim nodded, "I will look for it if I can, I promise."

"Thank you warden," the master replied.

Alim nodded and returned to Alistair.

The former Templar was awe-struck.

"What," the mage asked.

"What was that?"

The elf smiled wanly, it had been many years since he had seen a mabari, but there was a time when the dogs in the Bann's kennels were his only friends.

It was funny, if not for his magic; he would happily have spent his life caring for them…

Sadly, that was not meant to be.

"My Father," Alim said, "he was Kennel Master for the Bann of Lothering, I grew up around dogs. Always had a soft spot for them I guess. Come on; let's go find the others, "Alim hurried on up the steps leading to the hospital tent.

Alistair had said he had seen Ser Jory there earlier.

Alistair did not know what to make of the young elf, on one hand he was snarky and about two seconds away from going off on someone…

Then he had done what he had with that dog.

_Who would have guessed that the angry little mage had a soft side?_

Same person, two entirely different sides of that person, Alistair could not help but wonder what else the mage was hiding.

It would be interesting to find out.

IOI

The Korcari Wilds was not the most pleasant of places Alim had ever been, of course this was also the first time in years that Alim had been able to truly immerse himself in the natural world.

The elf could feel the power in this place, the life that flowed from every living thing, but that life was sickening, the very presence of the darkspawn was destroying this place. He could feel it in the wind and in the ground beneath his feet.

These creatures were not just monsters, they were a walking disease, and the natural world was suffering from them being here on the surface, Alim could feel it.

Sadly nature was not the only thing dying here.

"Step aside," Alim growled, "All of you!"

Alistair, Daveth and Ser Jory got out of the mage's way, he stared down at the injured soldier they had found, the man's patrol had been attacked by darkspawn.

The creatures were now dead, their blood used to fill the vials the three recruits needed to complete their joinings.

All that remained was finding those old treaties that Duncan wanted. Once they had helped this soldier anyway.

Alim held up his hands, blue energy flowed from his fingertips.

The injured man's eyes widened in fear.

"Stay away from me knife-ear," the soldier gasped, trying to crawl away from the mage.

"I don't like that word," he elf snorted, "you need to be healed or you will bleed to death, now stay still."

The man whimpered, but surrendered himself to the mage's touch, the deep gash on his leg and chest closed.

Alistair said he could not sense the taint inside the soldier, which meant that he would survive at least.

Alim wasn't sure how Alistair could be so sure about that, but chalked it up to being a Grey Warden thing,

Alim wasn't able to heal the man completely, by the work he had done made it possible for Alistair to bind the man's wounds. The former Templar it seemed did have some useful skills.

Unlike his fellow recruits.

Daveth was a pickpocket Duncan had picked up in Denerim, not the kind of person Alim would expect to join the wardens, but what did he know. The man was fast with a blade, and decent with a bow, Alim could respect that.

Ser Jory was the type of person that Alim usually chose to avoid. He looked at him as a lesser because he was an elf, and was clearly afraid when he heard that Alim was a mage. The man may have won a grand tourney in Highever, but he wasn't the type of man that Alim would want to have watching his back.

Of course the trip into the wilds was not completely wasted; he had managed to find that flower the Kennel Master had needed.

Now he just had to keep from strangling Jory and everything would be back to neat.

"Did you hear," the knight blubbered, "I full company of men killed by darkpawn."

"Calm down Ser Jory," Alistair said trying to reassure the man, "We will be fine as long as we are careful."

"Those soldiers were careful and they were still overwhelmed," than man continued.

"These dangers are part of our test Jory," Alim told the man, "So deal with it mister I won the grand melee."

"Not that you have much to worry about Lim," Daveth, cackled, "You're so short the spawn will likely not see you.

Alim's eyes narrowed, lightning crackled in the mage's hand, "You really do not want to go there Daveth…trust me."

The cutpurse turned to Alistair for help.

"You shouldn't say such things Daveth," Alistair cautioned him, "Alim is…sensitive about his height."

"I am not," the elf growled.

Thunder rumbled overhead.

Alim took a deep breath and counted to ten, he would not fry any of his fellow wardens…at least he would try not to fry any of them.

"Let's just keep going," Alim groused, "The sooner we find those treaties the sooner we can get out of this stinking swamp."

Alim hurried off towards an old sunken tower, according to Alistair, the warden tower was somewhere beyond it.

Provided the former Templar did not get them lost…

Again.

IOI

To Alim it seemed like they were running around in circles, but somehow they did manage to find the tower ruin where the Grey Warden treaties were supposed to be held.

The darkspawn continued to harass them the entire time. Alistair and Jory did their best to keep the creatures back. Alim and Daveth stayed in the back covering the others with arrows, and electrical bolts.

Alim called on the wind, asking it to blow harder, knocking the various genlock and hurlocks off balance. Air was one of the more fickle elements to work with, but it seemed to understand the danger the darkspawn posed, it gladly smashed the creatures against the trees and crumbling ruins scattered throughout the wilds.

Finally the managed to fight their way to the tower.

Alim searched for the chest and it's all important treaties, promises of support made to the Grey Wardens long ago, Duncan had called them.

Sadly they would not be finding them here…

The chest was empty.

Alim cursed under his breath, so much for finishing up there joining.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

The voice was low and sultry, the four wardens turned to face its source.

Alim's eyes widened, it seemed that flowers and animals were not the only beautiful thing in this place.

It was a woman, a human woman, she pale skinned with dark hair and amber eyes. She was dressed in a set of ragged robes, barely; her top was cut so low that Alim could almost see her breasts.

The woman crackled with danger, her eyes flashed inviting them to either attack her or surrender to her.

But there was more to her than that, Alim could feel the magic crackling around her.

That made her either a chasind shaman, or perhaps a witch, one of the legendary witches of the wilds perhaps.

The others were clearly terrified of her, even Alistair.

"Don't answer her," the former Templar cautioned, "she looks chasind, and that means that others might be nearby."

"Ooh," the woman laughed, "you fear that barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Yes," Alistair said suspiciously, "Swooping is…baaad!"

"She is a witch of the wilds she is," Daveth jabbered in panic, "She will turn us all in to toads!"

"Witch of the Wilds," the woman tsked, "such fantastic tales those legends, do you have no minds of your own," she faced Alim with a predatory smile, "You there," she purred, "elves don't scare like little boys, especially elves with magic," she said grinning, "Tell me your name and I will tell you mine."

Alim smiled, if this dark haired beauty wanted to play, he was more than willing to play along.

""I'm Alim dear woman," He said bowing respectfully, taking his hat off to her, "A pleasure to meet you."

"Well that is a civil greeting Master Elf," the woman giggled, amused by him, "Even here in the wilds."

She approached him, offering him her hand.

He took it and kissed her knuckle respectfully.

She smiled hungrily.

"It is a pleasure to meet you …Alim. You…may call me Morrigan."


	4. The Women in the Wilds

**Chapter 4: The Women in the Wilds**

Morrigan led them deeper into the wilds, both Daveth and Jory looked like they were about to turn tail and run any minute. Alistair watched the dark haired girl closely, his Templar training allowed him to sense magic, and she…she was quite strong with it.

She told them that she had the treaties, or rather her mother did, hopefully they would be able to gather them up quickly and be done with.

Despite everything that had happened, Alim was enjoying himself, it was not often that someone got to meet an actual living, breathing witch in person.

The fact that she was attractive was just icing on the cake.

And it seemed that he was not the only one who thought so.

He smirked at the former Templar.

"What," Alistair demanded.

The elf's smirk widened into a full grin.

"Just a little friendly advice Alistair," he chuckled, "You should put your tongue back in your mouth before you trip over it."

"My…I…WHAT!" Alistair stammered.

"You're staring at her," he said motioning to their guide, "stop it."

Alistair turned scarlet.

"I'm watching her for any signs of betrayal," he stammered in a low voice, he did not wish for Morrigan to hear them, "I'm being careful…that doesn't mean I think she is attractive."

"Alistair, you would have to be blind not to think she was attractive," the elf chuckled, "Maker, she is not even my race and I find her attractive."

"Just remember," Alistair hissed, "she is a witch, and she is evil and meeeean."

"You're such a little girl," Alim said rolling his eyes.

The former Templar glared at him, he wasn't staring at the woman lustfully, she was an apostate, and she was dangerous.

She was an attractive, dangerous apostate.

He would just have to focus on that.

IOI

They emerged from the Korcari Wilds and found themselves before a small hut. The place had the look of something that had been here for centuries, if not longer. An old woman sat in a rocking chair near the fire, an old fox fur shawl covered her shoulders, long wild gray hair tangled from the top of her head.

Morrigan nodded to her as they approached, Alim guessed that this was Mother.

"Greetings, Mother," the young witch said with a slight bow, "I bring before you four grey wardens who…"

"I can see them girl," the woman interrupted, she looked them all over closely, "Hmm, much as I suspected," the old woman purred.

"Do you expect us to believe that we were expected," Alistair chuckled.

"You are required to do nothing least of all believe," the old witch hissed, "shut one's eyes tight or open one's eyes wide, either way, ones a fool."

"She is a witch I'm telling you," Daveth warned, "We should not be talking to her!"

"Quiet Daveth," Jory hissed, "If she is a witch, do you really want to make her mad?"

The old woman chuckled.

"There is a smart lad," she purred, her eyes fell on Alim then, the elf felt the power in the old woman's gaze…she…she was more than what they were seeing here, he was sure of it.

What she truly was however, even he was not sure.

The old woman smiled.

"Long has it been since I have seen your kind, young man," she smiled.

"Elves don't pass this way huh?" he asked.

"Not ones with your gifts, dear boy," she smirked, "Tell me…what do you believe? Does your elven mind give you a different viewpoint then your fellows?"

Alim considered how best to answer. The first enchanter had taught him long ago, to respect powers greater than himself, and this woman…whatever she was…felt…far more than he ever was.

Respect was what was called for here.

"I don't know what to believe good woman," he said mimicking Morrigan's bow.

"Hmm," the older woman tapped her chin lightly, "A statement that suggests greater wisdom that it implies, be always aware, or…or is it oblivious…I can never remember. So much about you is uncertain and do I believe…why…why it seems that I do."

Alistair smiled, their earlier fears seemed unfounded, "Sooo, this is a dreaded witch of the wilds?"

"Witch of the Wilds," the old woman chuckled, "Morrigan must have told you that, she fancies such tales you see…oh how she dances under the moon."

An image of the beautiful young sorceress dancing naked in the moonlight sprang into the young elf's head, he pushed such thoughts away quickly.

He was trying to remain respectful after all.

"They did not come for your wild tales Mother," Morrigan said coldly.

"They came for their treaties yes," the witch offered, retreating into her hut, the sound of banging came from within, Morrigan continued to glare coldly at Alistair, though she did offer Alim a small smile from time to time.

The old woman emerged, carrying three great scrolls, "And before you begin barking young man," she said glaring at Alistair, "Know that your precious seal wore off long ago, I have protected these treaties for some time."

"You…oh," Alistair was visibly shocked; "You protected them."

"And why not," the old woman shrugged, "take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this Blights threat is greater than they realize."

"What do you mean," Alistair asked suspiciously.

The old woman smiled.

"Either the threat is more, or you realize less, or perhaps the threat is nothing, or perhaps you realize nothing!" the old woman cackled, "But do not mind me, you have what you came for."

"Time for you to go then," Morrigan sneered.

The older woman looked insulted at her daughter's lack of manners.

"Don't be ridiculous girl, these are your guests." She said coldly.

Morrigan glanced her way, the woman's eyes turned to ice.

Her daughter visibly flinched.

"I…I…oh…I suppose I will show you the way out of the woods, follow me…if it pleases you."

The five of them turned to leave; Alim stuffed the recovered treaties into his pack.

HE turned one last time to the old woman.

"Thank you," he said with a bow, "for keeping these safe."

"Manners," the older woman chuckled, "Always the last place you look…like stockings…or the one you cannot imagine living without."

Alim paused, what was this now?

The old woman gave him a regretful look.

"The bard will not be what you expect when you meet her," the old woman said sadly, "I pray that she comes to a better end than mine did."

With that the old woman left, disappearing back into her hut, Alim watched her go.

Minstrel, he wondered, what minstrel?

Shaking his head he followed after the others, Morrigan seemed impatient; she wanted them out of her sight now.

IOI

Morrigan sighed she could feel the Templar's eyes on her, his very regard made her bristle.

_Of all of these fools, only the elf, showed only real promise._

Yet she had obeyed her Mother's orders, now the wardens would be away.

But soon they would return, and Mother's plan could begin in earnest.

IOI

The journey back to Ostagar had been a quiet one; Morrigan led them right up to the gates of the old fortress.

"Tis as far as I go," she informed Alim.

"Thank you Morrigan," the elf said nodding.

She returned his nod …respectfully.

"Perhaps we shall meet again Master elf," She smiled, "Hopefully when you are in better company."

She shot one final glare at Alistair before disappearing back into the wilds.

Alim smirked at Alistair.

"What," he asked.

"Oh nothing," Alim shrugged, "Just…when a woman looks at you like that, it either means that she wants to kill you, or jump into bed with you. You're very lucky Alistair."

The warden blushed, rushing off to find Duncan, Daveth and Ser Jory in his wake. They left Alim alone, he stared thoughtfully where their mysterious guide had vanished.

A fascinating woman, to be sure, he may have been teasing Alistair, but he held true to what he said.

Alistair was a lucky man to have garnered such attention.

He made for the Kennel Master, he needed to get the man the flower he needed, and then he would catch up with Duncan.

It was time to get this joining thing out of the way.

IOI

Night had finally fallen over the ruins of Ostagar.

Soldiers bedded down for the night, King Cailan retired to his tent, the young ruler's mind was ablaze with excited thoughts. He could almost see the Archdemon dead at his feet, his sword severing the creatures head from its tainted body.

His name would be sung for a hundred years, his memory would eclipse that of even his legendary father. They would build monuments to him, Cailan the Savior, Vanquisher of the Blight.

Duncan moved through the camp, in his hands he carried the chalice used in the joining ritual, he had done this many times now, so many recruits, so many conscripts, some becoming his trusted brothers…

Some not surviving to see another day.

And now it was time to begin again, a new crop of recruits had been prepared. They would leave the old temple here at Ostagar as Grey Wardens…

Or they would not leave at all.

IOI

Alim sat on an old stone pillar as the recruits awaited Duncan's return.

Alistair watched them all closely; a distracted look on the man's face, Alim wondered what troubled the warden so…

It was not like he was the one taking the joining after all.

Jory paced nervously, the man was sweating buckets, Alim did not understand that…

Jory had won a tournament to prove that he deserved this; it seemed extremely cowardly on the man's part to get cold feet now.

"The more I hear about this joining the less I like it," the knight complained.

"Are you blubbering again," Daveth sighed.

"Why all these damn tests," Jory growled, "Have I not earned my place?"

Alim shook his head; the knight's whining was really starting to get on his nerves.

"You know Jory," he offered, "if this grey warden thing does not work out for you, you always have a future as a chicken."

The knight glared at the elf.

"That was unkind elf," he growled, "and uncalled for."

"But realistic," Alim snorted, "You know, no one forced you to be here Jory, you fought for this, you earned this. So stop acting like Duncan hit you over the head and dragged you here."

"Yeah Ser Knight," Daveth agreed, "Try not to wet your pants before the ceremony starts."

Jory glared at his fellow recruits.

"It…it is just that I have a wife with a child on the way…had I known. It…it just doesn't seem fair."

"Life rarely is fair Ser Knight," Alim frowned, "If it was…I would likely be serving as a Kennel Master back home…instead I'm here, so you damn well bet I'm going to make the best of it. I…"

Duncan's arrival interrupted them; he walked past them placing the chalice on the old stone altar.

"At last we come to the joining the senior warden recited, no this…that we Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when the world stood on the verge of annihilation…so it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkpawn blood, and mastered their taint.

Jory's eyes widened in fear, "You…you want us to drink the blood…of those…those creatures."

"AS the first Wardens did before us, as we did before you," Duncan said solemnly, "This…is the source of our power…and our victory."

"Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint," Alistair offered, "We…can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon."

Alim's ears twitched nervously, "Those who survive?"

"Not all who drink the blood survive," Duncan said solemnly, "and those that do…are forever changed."

Alim shrugged, he supposed that made sense, this was not blood magic, but it came awful close, he wondered if the chantry knew about this? Probably not…

"We say only a few words before the joining, but they have been said since the first," Duncan paused then, turning to Alistair, "If you would," he asked.

Alistair nodded, dropping his head respectfully, Daveth followed suit, and even Alim tipped his hat. Jory looked like a terrified mare, ready to bolt at the first opportunity.

Alistair began.

"Join us brothers and sisters, join us in the shadow where we stand vigilant, join us as we carry the duty that can never be foresworn…and should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten…and that one day…we…shall join you."

Duncan raised the chalice, it was time.

"Daveth step forward."

Alim had to admit the cutpurse had some balls; he stepped forward without complaint, and drank deep from the chalice.

He fell choking to the ground, his eyes as milky and empty as any darkspawn.

He died quickly.

Duncan sighed sadly, "I'm sorry Daveth," he said, he raised the chalice again, "Step forward Jory."

The knight's calm snapped he drew his sword, backing away from Duncan. Alistair stood in front of the entrance; Jory would not be getting out that way.

Alim watched silently, he couldn't believe the knight….what was he thinking.

I have a wife… a child… had I known."

Duncan lowered the chalice; he drew a wicked looking dagger from his belt.

"I warned you back in Highever Jory," Duncan hissed, "there is no turning back."

"No," the man said with a panicked sob, "You ask too much, there is no glory in this."

"This was never about glory Jory," Alim said shaking his head, "this is about sacrifice."

The man glared at the mage, fury darkened his eyes.

"Silence elf…Or I'll…"

Duncan struck; he gutted Jory before he even had a chance to cry out…

The knight fell in a pool of his own blood…

"I am sorry Jory," Duncan whispered.

He turned to Alim, sheathing his dagger and picking up the chalice.

"Step forward Alim."

The elf rose from his seat, if he was going to die, it was going to be on his terms. Thunder rumbled overhead, but he kept a firm grip on it. The elf had nothing to go back to, not in the tower and certainly not in Lothering,

**This**…was all he had left.

He took the chalice from Duncan; he glanced down into its dark depths.

Alim took a deep breath, it was time.

He drank of the chalice.

The world began to spin and burn, the elf fought to remain standing, but knew that he could not.

From far off he could here Duncan's voice.

"You have been call upon to submit yourself to the taint, for the greater good. From this point forward Alim…you are a Grey Warden.

The world faded away and in its place the great gaping maw of a dargon filled his vision. The creature roared angrily at him, as if its roar alone could scare Alim into death, he did not give it that chance. He would not die today.

He would not. HE WOULD NOT!

The burning an images of the dragon faded. He found himself lying on the stone floor of the old temple.

Alistair and Duncan standing over him.

"It is done," the elder warden said, "We welcome you…brother."

"Are you all right Alim," Alistair asked.

The elf rolled his eyes was that really a serious question.

Alim sat up, trying not to vomit.

"How do you feel," Duncan asked.

Alim snorted another brilliant question.

"Like shit," the elf growled, "next stupid question."

Despite what they had just faced Alistair could not stop himself from laughing.

"I think he is alright Duncan," the young warden said.

Alim shook his head, after what he had seen tonight, he would never forget it.

And he would make sure no one forgot him either.

For better or for worse, Alim was now a Grey Warden,

Maker help them all.


	5. Betrayal at Ostagar

**Chapter 5: The Betrayal at Ostagar**

Duncan woke Alim early the next morning; it seemed that the King had requested the elven mage's presence at a strategy session with Teyrn Loghain. Alim sighed heavily as he dressed; he wasn't sure why the King would ask for him, he was no soldier and certainly no strategist.

He would have preferred a good night's sleep, not that he had found one, the dreams from the joining still haunted the young elf. Alistair informed him that this was normal, but that did not make it any easier to endure.

Alim arrived to find the King and an elder dark haired knight arguing, Alim assumed that this was the Teyrn Loghain that he had been hearing so much about. The man had the look of a seasoned warrior. His piercing blue eyes and beak like nose gave the man a very avian appearance; he looked every bit the predator that the Orlesians had come to fear decades ago.

The session began shortly after Alim's arrival, though it seemed no one had much desire to discuss the upcoming battle.

Alim shook his head; the King seemed more interested in battling his own general than the darkspawn this morning.

The King's meeting turned out to be more of a pissing contest than a discussion of strategy. Teyrn Loghain was very much against the King standing with the wardens in the coming battle, and made no bones about it to Cailan.

The King responded arrogantly to the older man's concerns, he was the King of Ferelden and he would do as he pleased, it was best if the Teyrn remembered that.

Alim shook his head_; a crown did not make you immortal, or all knowing._

Once things had finally settled down the Teyrn outlined his plan for the battle, The Grey warden would draw the bulk of the darkspawn horde, into charging their main lines, meanwhile the Teyrn and his armies would charge from cover once the King signaled them, using a fire atop the great tower of Ishal. The creatures would be flanked, and with luck the horde would break under the strength of their tactics.

Alim shrugged, the plan could work he supposed, but after having fought the darkspawn in the wilds he doubted that the creatures would be daunted so easily, the darkspawn would no doubt continue the attack until they were all slain.

It was then that the discussion turned to who would handle lighting the signal that would summon the Teyrn's men, Loghain suggested some of his troops, but Cailan would not hear of it, he chose Alistair and Alim to see to this vital task.

The elf was shocked, the King had only met him a few days ago and now he wanted to trust the safety of the army to him and Alistair?

It seemed like a vast waste of their talents, Alistair was a skilled warrior, and the King had yet to see what Alim could truly do.

_He could feel the storm coming, the rain on his skin, the wind in his hair._

Alim longed to bring the full might of the storm down upon the darkspawn's heads, in the past he had always had to check himself, for fear that he might hurt those around him, but with the darkspawn, he did not have to hold back around those foul creatures.

He longed for such a release.

"You depend on these Grey Wardens too much," Loghain cautioned him, "Are you certain this is wise Cailan?"

"Enough of your conspiracy theories Loghain," the King replied, "Grey wardens battle the Blight no matter where they are from."

"Your Majesty," Duncan cautioned the King, "We must be prepared if the Archdemon appears as well."

Loghain shook his head dismissively, "There have been no sign of any dragons in the wilds."

"Is that not what your men are here for Duncan," Cailan inquired.

"I…yes…Your Majesty," the warden commander said with a quick bow.

Alim could not help but roll his eyes, did the King not understand what was at stake here, this was about much more than his own personal glory.

This was not some game for Cailan to play hero in, this was a war, Alim had walked through the medical tent this morning, he had seen the wounded there, many of whom were suffering a slow lingering death thanks to the taint.

Those people had not given their lives so that Cailan Theirin could earn his place in history.

The elf sighed.

Sadly there was nothing that he could do, the King had made his decision, the elf just hoped that he had not doomed them all with his choices.

IOI

Alistair was not happy that he would not be in the battle, not that Alim blamed him.

"This is not your decision," Duncan reminded the young warrior, "If the King says that Grey Wardens will insure the beacon is lit then Grey Wardens will be there. We must do whatever we can to destroy the darkspawn…exciting or no."

"I get it. I get it," Alistair sighed, "Just so you know, should the King decide that I should put on a dress and dance the remigold, I'm drawing the line, Darkspawn or no."

"It would be a great distraction," Alim admitted.

"Sure," Alistair chuckled, "Me shimmying up and down the darkspawn lines. We could kill them all while they roll around laughing."

"Might I suggest a gold colored dress," the elf grinned, "It would match your hair."

Duncan glared at the two men, "Hmmm," he grumbled.

Both of the junior wardens fell silent.

Duncan gave them their final orders before heading out to join their fellows.

Alim shook his head, it seemed that they had some running to do.

"It is not a dangerous task, but it is vital," the Teyrn had said.

"Let's just get to the tower," Alistair sighed, "it may not be the most glamorous job, but we best not dawdle."

Alim nodded, over head the storm had finally reached Ostagar, the first drops of rain fell on the wide brim of his traveling hat.

Even without the battle, it appeared that they were all in for a very wild night.

IOI

From one of the trees overlooking the battlefield, Morrigan watched the gathering army with curiosity. Not that anyone would recognize the young witch, she now wore the form of a raven. She tilted her head, and squawked as the first drops of rain fell on her.

T'was truly an amazing sight, but she had seen the advancing darkspawn horde, its numbers were at least three times the army here.

If the Ferelden King was not careful, he was looking at a possible massacre.

The darkspawn emerged from the mists, hurlocks, genlocks, shrieks, and even a few ogres. The creatures paused before the army assembled to stop them, they growled with fury. A massive hurlock alpha stepped forward; it raised its ax, roaring into the pouring rain, as one the horde answered the creature, clearly the vanguard commanding the massive host.

The alpha pointed his ax at the Ferelden army, as one the horde charged, a massive wall of tainted warriors.

The human king called down arrows on the advancing monsters, dozens fell, but still they came, six replacing everyone who had fallen.

Next came the hounds, they slammed into the spawn like a ballista bolt. More spawn fell, but still the horde was not slowed.

The Ferelden King raised his blade, a horn blared, and the charge was sounded.

On the rain swept field the two armies slammed into each other. Screams of fury mingled with the cries of the dying, the clash of steel and the crackle of magic filled the air.

Morrigan took flight she flew up to the bridge overlooking the battle field. That is where she saw them, the elf Alim, and that Templar fool, they made their way quickly across the bridge. Morrigan followed after them, why were they not down below with their fellows.

The two wardens made for the tower of Ishal, they were met by two of the tower guard, apparently the darkspawn had managed to breach the tower.

It now belonged to the darkspawn.

The wardens and their new allies made for the tower. The elf called out to the wind, asking it to defend them, to keep the spawn from denying them their mission.

The wind responded, it flung the darkspawn warriors into trees and stone pillars, the creatures died by the dozens, but sadly there were always more.

Morrigan squawked, heading back towards the safety of the wilds.

She needed to talk to her Mother.

If she intended to gain the wardens aid she would likely have to hurry.

The darkspawn were not interested in taking prisoners, not even Grey Wardens.

Lightning flashed overhead, the battle continued.

IOI

"I hope you're satisfied," Alim complained.

Alistair did not respond; he was too bust striking down a genlock. The two Ferelden soldiers that had come with them fought better than Alim would have expected, they were only one floor from the top of the tower once there they would be able to light the beacon.

"Why should I be satisfied," the Templar asked.

"You wanted to fight," Alim reminded him, "well you're fighting."

"Hey you're right," Alistair chuckled, "I guess there is a silver lining to all of this."

Alim rolled his eyes, Maker save him, he would never understand Alistair.

They managed to fight their way to the top of the tower, many darkspawn lay dead or dying in their wake. Alistair kicked open the door and…

Alim gasped…it was….it was the biggest darkpawn he had ever seen, ten feet tall easy, with horns longer than his arm. It mottled blue skin looked purple in the light of the torches. The creature was leaning over, the smacking and crunching wounds meant that it was eating something…or someone.

The elven mage shuddered,

"What is it Alistair," he asked.

"That would be an ogre Alim," he responded.

"Oh…um…okay," the elf said with a shrug, just so long as they were clear.

The ogre turned to them and their companions, the huge darkpawn roared a challenge, then…without any warning…the creature charged.

The wardens managed to jump free, but one of their allies was not so lucky, the ogre literally ran the power man over, blood splattered its massive legs.

The creature roared in victory.

Alim fired bolts of electricity at the creature, while Alistair and their remaining guard engaged the beast up close. Outside the storm responded to the elf's fear and anger, but that did little good in here. The elf was forced to stick with standard magics, electricity and ice flew from his fingertips. Alistair distracted the creature while the surviving solider, tried to drive his sword into the creature's lower back...

For the most part their plan seemed to be working; the darkspawn was not sure who to attack first, its hesitation worked entirely to the wardens' favor.

Despite the distraction, the ogre's angry gaze finally fell on Alim; it roared angrily and charged the young elf.

He darted out of the way as quick as possible casting as he moved. A sheet of ice now cover the floor before the ogre, the creature slipped slamming hard into one of the pillars supporting the roof. The creature fell dazed from the hard impact.

But it would not be down long, they needed to deal with the creature quickly.

Alistair leapt atop the ogre's chest, he leaned forward on the creature's neck, forcing it back down, then…then he plunged his sword into the monster's eye. The ogre squealed, it tried to shake Alistair off, but it was not use.

The darkspawn collapsed, finally succumbing to its injuries.

Alim sighed, that had been far too close.

"The beacon is over here," Alistair said scooping up a torch, "We have surely missed the signal, let's light it before it is too late."

The former Templar plunged a flaming torch into the signal fire, the flames exploded outward, signaling the Teyrn's men to charge.

Alim looked out one of the small windows, it over looked the battlefield far below. He watched, waiting for the Teyrn's army to coming charging down into the valley.

He waited and waited…

The Teyrn never charged.

_Come one…come on!_

IOI

On the battlefield far below, Cailan Theirin looked up to the Tower of Ishal, he could see the signal blazing bright at its top, and yet, Loghain's men were nowhere to be seen.

A second wave of darkspawn flooded the field, all around them, men were dying, his men, the grey wardens, everyone.

No…it cannot end like this, I'm Cailan Theirin, he thought. I'm the son of Maric the Savior, the grandson of Moira the Rebel Queen, Loghain…he can't do this…he can't!

An ogre roared as it charged towards him, Cailan tried to fight back, but he was so weary, the creature seized him in its meaty fist.

The ogre brought him to its face, its pale tainted eyes glared hatefully at him.

This could not be happening; he was this King of Ferelden!

This was nothing like in the tales!

IOI

Alistair," Alim shouted at his fellow warden, "Something is wrong! THE BLOODY TEYRN WON"T CHARGE!"

"What," Alistair's eyes widened in shock, "That could not be? He has to charge! Cailan needs him! Duncan needs him!"

They had sealed the door behind them when they had entered, but a fresh wave of darkspawn shattered it to splinters. The tower guard who had accompanied them was overwhelmed the spawn washed over him like a flood.

Alim fired lightning from his staff, killing the first few, but three arrows struck him, one in the shoulder, one in the gut, and one in the upper chest.

The elf fell.

AS the world faded away, he heard Alistair roar a battle cry, as he slammed into the advancing darkspawn. The sound of a loud explosion shook the tower, followed by a roar of a dragon…

The Archdemon Alim wondered, though by this point he was too far gone to see.

Everything faded from the elf mage then…

He fell into darkness.


	6. The Coming Storm

**Chapter 6: The Coming Storm**

_The darkness swallowed everything, the ground, the sky, and everything else that walked the Maker's world._

_She stood on the peak unable to look away, it was a shadow, but unlike any shadow she had ever known, and at its heart was a sound, a roar…it was terrifying, the sound of some hungry animal that was not only destroying all around it, but took pleasure in that destruction._

_Took pleasure…and hungered for more._

_She tried to run, to escape the darkness, but there was nowhere to flee to…_

_Hope faded…and then she felt it…_

_She was no longer alone._

_A figure reached down for her, she took his hand in hers. His hands were smaller than hers, but had warmth, strength, a power that rejuvenated her._

_His voice bolstered her strength, and gave her the courage to stand…to stand and fight on._

"_On your feet sister", this stranger ordered, "we are not dead yet."_

_The peak collapsed beneath them, they both fell into the darkness, but she did not scream, or fear._

_She still held his hand in hers._

IOI

Leliana awoke.

The Chantry sister blinked her blue eyes, running her hand through her short red hair.

_The same dream…the same vision the last two weeks, only this time a new element._

_The stranger, the one who gave her strength to fight on._

Leliana rose from her bunk, the sun had yet to rise; rain splattered the windows of the Lothering Chantry. Yet, she did not remain inside.

She needed to see it, to make sure that she had not dreamed what she had found yesterday.

She slipped on her cloak and headed out into the garden, she made quickly for the far wall, to the place where the dead rosebush lay…

The not entirely dead rosebush.

There it was, the sister smiled despite the cold driving rain, a sign of hope in the darkness.

The rose was there, in full bloom…winter was nearly upon them and yet the flower still bloomed defiantly against the cold and the darkness.

Sister Leliana nodded; surely this flower could not exist without aid, without divine intervention.

She understood the meaning of the dream now…the vision, it surely must have been Maker sent.

I hear oh Maker, she thought respectfully, and I shall obey.

The sister headed back into the chantry, she made for the old wine cellar here, she had not been down here in almost two years…

She had not been down here since Silas had left with Dorothea, since Sketch had fled to Gwaren looking to take ship to Rivain.

It was time; much as it had been the night she had escaped from the Arl of Denerim's estate, much as it had been when she had faced her mentor on the coast.

_We are the same._

The red-head pushed such thoughts from her mind that… was the past.

There was a loose stone behind the far wine rack, she slid it back, revealing a small cubby hole, she reached inside past the cobwebs and dust.

She drew out her old things, the tools of the life she had abandoned two years ago.

Her leather vest and skirt needed to be oiled, two of the studs needed to be replaced. Her quiver was still fully loaded, she inspected each of the arrows carefully, they seemed good and ready to see use again. Her longbow needed a new string, but that was easy enough to come by here in Lothering.

Then she drew out her blades, her short sword and daggers, the blades had seen much use in her service. Many times he had shed blood in the service of her wealthy patrons, and her Mistress's pleasure.

Her eyes narrowed painfully, she was not that woman anymore, she was no longer the cruel, arrogant creature that prowled the palaces of the Orlesian Nobility.

She would fight anew, but not for the pleasure or greed of others.

Her blades would not be used for such cruel pursuits now, now…they would strike with the righteous fury of the Maker, in defense of the world he had built.

She drew the sword from its sheath, she twirled the blade, its weight was still perfect, but its mistress had lost a step or two in the last year.

She would need to remedy that.

Soon the stranger would come; soon it would be time to take up her weapons again.

She would do it again, gladly.

It was the Maker's will.

IOI

Alim gasped, he bolted upright in the bed, and was rewarded with a fresh wave of pain from his bandaged abdomen.

"Shit," he hissed as he leaned back, part of him was surprised that he was still alive. He was lying in a bed, naked except for his smalls; his wounds had been cleaned and dressed.

How had he gotten here, the elf wondered, the last thing he remembered was the tower…?

The darkspawn swarming over them like locusts.

"Ah…your eyes finally open, Mother will be pleased."

Alim gasped, he pulled the covers up to his neck, the young girl chuckled at his modesty, she smiled playfully at him with her amber eyes.

"M…Mor…Morrigan?" he asked weakly.

"Ah you remember me, how pleasant," the young witch chuckled, tending to something boiling in a large cook pot.

"Where am I?" he asked her.

"Back in the wilds of course," she replied matter of factly, "I have just finished binding your wounds, you are welcome by the way. Tell me, how does your memory fair?"

The elf's head swam; he remembered the battle…the fight through the tower…

"I…I remember being overwhelmed by darkspawn," the elf replied.

"Mother saved you and your friend, though it was a close call," Morrigan said blandly, "The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field; the darkspawn won your battle. Those abandoned were all massacred."

Alim's eyes widened.

"Massacred," he gasped, "all of them? The King… the Grey Wardens…none of them escaped?"

"None that I could see," the witch replied with a shrug, "Your friend…he is not taking it…"

Alim leapt from the bed, his brown eyes flashed with rage.

"THAT BASTARD!" he growled.

Though the storm had ended last night, thunder rumbled overhead. Morrigan glanced up and smiled, the elf was truly more powerful than even he realized.

He made for his robes, dressing quickly, Morrigan pretended to ignore him, but watched him carefully. Most elves she had met were cowed sheep, Alim was not one of those…she found both him and the power he wielded… intriguing.

Far more than the dimwitted fool that had accompanied him.

Alim threw on his robes and long coat; he was pleased to see that his hat remained as well, along with his staff.

"Mother asked to see you when you awoke," Morrigan offered, "she and …the other warden," she said with distaste," are outside by the fire."

Alim pulled his hat down covering his large ears, he was furious at Loghain, enraged, but the matter of courtesy still needed to be tended to, this beautiful woman had helped him.

"Thank you Morrigan," he said with a slight bow, "For helping me."

"I…you…you are welcome," the witch stammered, she had not expected his words, "but it is Mother's work that saved you, I am no healer."

"Never the less, you have my thanks," the elf replied, he headed out the door looking for the elder witch and Alistair.

They had much to discuss.

IOI

Alim strode out of the witch's hut, he saw Alistair staring across the swamp before them, he seemed…lost.

"See here is your fellow Grey Warden," the old woman called out from her rocking chair, you worry too much young man."

Alistair nearly hugged the elf when he saw him, and might have if Alim had not pushed him back with his staff.

The elf mage was furious.

"What is the quickest way out of the wilds," he asked the witch.

The older woman smiled at him.

"And where do you intend to go?" she asked.

"After Loghain," the elf growled, "that treacherous bastard will pay for what he has done."

"I think you have greater worries than this Loghain dear boy," the witch cackled, "the horde is still out there after all."

The mention of the horde brought Alistair back from his stupor; Duncan's words about stopping the darkspawn rang in his ears.

"She is right Lim," he replied, "We have a duty to perform, with Duncan," Alistair winced he…he still could not believe that Duncan was gone that they were all gone.

"And how are we supposed to do that Alistair," Alim growled, "it is not like I have a spare army laying around, how 'bout you?"

"We cannot just ignore this," Alistair said hotly, "We are still Grey Wardens, you are still a Grey Warden!"

"Very good lad," the witch smiled, "anger is a much better emotion than despair, it will keep you sharp. Give you the power to do what must be done."

"Who are you tell us what to do," Alim advanced on her, anger shining in his eyes, "You saved us sure, but why should we care what you say?"

The witch smiled, Alim could sense the magic within her, powerful magic, old magic.

He realized that he might have just made a mistake.

Fortunately the witch did not take offense, she simply answered his question.

"Names are pretty but useless things," she shrugged, "I have had so many over the years, the chasind folk call me Flemeth, I suppose that will do here."

_Flemeth._

Alim knew the name of course; it was a name that was old even when Ferelden was still young.

_Flemeth, the witch of the wilds, the mother of all witches, and a monster of myth._

"Daveth was right," Alistair gasped, "you are truly the witch of the wilds."

"I know a bit of magic and it has served you both well has it not?" the witch replied.

Alim backed down, now he understood what he was facing, the time for tact had come.

"My apologies then old one," he said with a bow, "I meant no disrespect."

Flemeth cackled, "Again with the manners," the witch laughed, "oh the minstrel will find you so intriguing, provided you do not kill each other first of course."

Alim fell silent, again with the mention of a minstrel, what minstrel he wondered?

"And as far as gathering an army," the witch smiled, "I believe I provided you with that on your last visit, yes?"

Alistair's eyes widened.

"Of course, the treaties," he exclaimed, "the Grey wardens can ask for help from dwarves, elves, mages, and other places, they are obligated to help us during a Blight!"

"Well that certainly sounds like an army to old Flemeth," the witch sneered at Alim, "Do you not agree Master elf?"

Alim grunted, the treaties were still stored in his pack, he had forgotten to return them to Duncan before the battle, now…it seemed that they would have a chance to use them.

Provided they lived that long.

It would be difficult, who knew what Loghain would tell the Landsmeet, never the less it had to be attempted. It would be foolish to try and convince the nobles of Ferelden what Loghain had done. He was still a hero in the eyes of the people, not to mention the Father of Cailan's wife Queen Anora…

Correction, Alim thought, he is the Father of Cailan's widow, a woman that would need a strong hand to help her govern…

Was that what this was all about, had Loghain wanted the throne and planned to rule through his daughter?

It was not a bad plan, but the problem with Ferelden politics was that the Landsmeet could decide not to support a King's decision. The wealthy landowners of Ferelden might not support Loghain in his bid for the throne. If that happened a civil war might erupt, and where would that leave a country under the threat of a Blight?

It was unlikely that Ferelden would be able to stand under such conditions.

The elf sighed, it seemed like they had little choice.

"It is a possibility," he admitted, "It seems like we have little choice."

"We…never do," Flemeth admitted.

Alistair gave him this grateful look, it…it looked like the Templar was about to start crying, Alim hoped he would not do that. He would do his duty, if for no other reason to get his hands on a certain treacherous noble man.

"You have our thanks Flemeth," the elf nodded, "And not to sound ungrateful, but…is there any other help you can offer us, we have a long road ahead."

"As a matter of fact dear boy," The witch smiled, "I do have one more thing I can offer you."

Morrigan emerged from her Mother's hut; Flemeth looked at her daughter, before returning her regard to Alistair and Alim.

The Witch of the Wild's smiled broadly.


	7. Out of the Wilds

**Chapter 7: Out of the Wilds**

Morrigan was not in the best of moods, not that Alim blamed her for that. The young witch had clearly not been prepared to be forced on the two wardens by her own mother.

Still Alim could not help but feel grateful for her company; they would likely never have found their way out of the wilds without her.

The elf had no idea how the woman navigated in this place, to him it was all just one big endless wall of fetid pools, withered trees and marsh gas.

Yet none of this seemed to bother Morrigan, she seemed to know exactly where she was going despite the unchanging scenery around them.

Alim was truly glad that she was here.

Alistair on the other hand…

The elf snorted, he recognized the fact that he was being uncharitable, everyone that Alistair had come to care about was gone; every other grey warden in Ferelden had fallen at the battle of Ostagar.

Now there was just Alistair and Alim…and all because of Loghain's treachery.

_Loghain._

The elf's eyes narrowed in hate, he had not known the other wardens…accept for Duncan of course, but that did not mean that he did not feel anger about their betrayal at Ostagar. Alim had trusted that Loghain would at least do what was necessary to protect their home. Cailan may have been an over eager glory hound, but at least he was willing to fight and die for his people.

The elf had found himself thinking back to the conversations he had heard between the King and the Teyrn. Alim did not believe that this was all some last minute thing, that the tide of battle had changed and Loghain had simply decided to cut his losses. Even if that was the case, Loghain could have done something to distract the darkspawn, give the wardens and the King time to escape somehow…

But he had not; he had abandoned them all to their fate.

No…this was not the actions of a skilled General, these were the actions of a usurper, who saw the opportunity to rid himself of the one obstacle that stood in his way to the throne. It was not enough to simply kill the king however, that would have looked too suspicious, better to say that he had fallen in battle, fighting alongside his heroes the Grey Wardens.

Cailan had wanted to find glory…and all he had found was death in a darkspawn infested swamp.

The King and the Grey wardens had been murdered, and now the horde was going to march north unchecked…killing hundreds if not thousands more.

_Teyrn Loghain was truly an evil man…far more so than anyone else._

_Far more than any mage, _Alim thought with a frown.

All his life, Alim Surana had been told how evil he was because of his magic. The sisters looked at him like he was damned, and the Templars looked at him like he was already an Abomination, and in need of a swift killing.

Alim hated that, he had not asked to be born with magic, nor had ever wished to use it to dominate anyone. He would have happily spent his life tending the Bann's kennels as his father had.

What happened in Ostagar was proof that you did not need magic to be evil.

One thing was certain, Alim did not intend to let the Teyrn get away with this, he would not be rewarded with the crown of Ferelden.

What he would get was the mother of all lightning bolts rushing through his brain.

Alim smiled at that thought, the Teyrn thought he knew what power was, to see his armies storm across the battlefield…

Alim would show him what the true meaning of a ordering a storm.

He found himself looking forward to that.

IOI

Alim moved up next to Morrigan, it had not been easy; the witch set a brisk pace. He needed to know more about this village she had mentioned.

"Are we close," he asked her.

"Tis not far," she replied, "we should reach your imperial highway by tomorrow after noon. Then tis less than a day's travel to the village I mentioned."

"Does this village have a name?" he asked.

"Tis a place of little consequence called Lothering."

Alim froze.

Morrigan noticed that he had stopped, and turned to face the elf, "Is something the matter warden?"

"Lothering," he repeated, "is it really that close?"

"Tis that close, yes," the witch answered, ""Why? Have you heard of it?"

"I…I grew up there," Alim said adjusting his hat; he did not want her to see the nervous look in his eyes.

"Ah," she replied, "than you know how intolerant such a place is to people such as we. I have visited there on occasion, and purchased goods from the local merchants."

"I would likely have gone more often if not for the town's chantry," she said wrinkling her nose in distaste, "Such places are intolerant, and make life difficult for strangers such as me."

Alim nodded, he knew very well how much trouble the chantry could be.

"A chantry," Alistair had sided up next to them as they had been talking, after day of silence it was kind of refreshing to hear him speak, "And in all that time they never thought that maybe…you were a witch?"

"Of course they have, they even sent out their Templars once," Morrigan said proudly. They found nothing,"

Lothering, Alim could scarcely believe it, he remembered that his home was close to the wilds of course, but he had never imagined that it would be this close, that he would ever be this close.

I can go see her, he thought, after all this time…I can finally see my Mother again.

He did not let his excitement show however; he chose to hide it behind a mask of indifference.

Still he could not stop the flame that had been lit inside of him.

Hope.

It had been such a long time since he had felt hope.

IOI

Alim was pleased when they finally emerged from the wilds, before them stretched the old imperial highway of Ferelden, but that was not the best part. The best part was that he recognized this section of the old highway. Even after all these years he still remembered it. The Bann's estate was not far.

He took the lead now; he informed the others that he knew people in this part of Ferelden, people that might help them get resupplied.

It was not entirely a lie, he was certain that Mother and the other servants might help them. He was not entirely certain how the Bann would react, but he was willing to take that chance.

He could not wait to see his Mother again; he had never blamed her during the last twelve years. It was the chantry sisters and their Templar puppets who had stolen him away from her.

He needed to speak with her, let her know he was okay.

As they cleared the final tree line, the Bann's estate came into full view.

Alim smiled.

He volunteered to go in first; he did not wish to scare anyone, with the horde approaching they would likely be scared enough as it was.

Alistair and Morrigan agreed wait along the road.

Alim hurried up the road to the main house, this would not take long.

IOI

Morrigan sighed heavily, she had no idea why Alim wished her to remain here with this Templar fool…surely he did not believe she had anything in common with the twit.

Her brow furrowed, she could feel him watching her, she was use to men's stares of course every time she had emerged from the wilds she had drawn them, but this…this was intolerable."

"Avert your gaze Alistair," she snorted haughtily, "if you know what is good for you."

"It is not what you think," Alistair said dryly, if the witch was trying to make him uncomfortable she would fail, "I was simply admiring your nose."

Morrigan's eyes narrowed, "And what is it about my nose that you find so intriguing?"

"Well," Alistair said flashing an evil grin, "I could not help but notice it looks exactly like your Mother's."

The witch's amber eyes widened, her hand went to her face self-consciously.

After days of dark and gloomy thoughts, Alistair could not help but smile at her reaction.

"You…I…I hate you so much!" she hissed.

Alistair could no longer help it…

He burst out laughing.

It was then that the sky began to darken, and a cold miserable rain began to fall.

IOI

Alim's happy reunion did not take place, it…it could barely be considered a reunion at all.

He stared in shock at the field of daisies behind the Bann's estate, Delwyn, the Bann's elven housekeeper stood next to him. She had once been one of his Mother's best friends. She had taught Alim to read and write when he was only just a fledgling.

And now she stood with him as he said his final good bye to his mother.

On the very spot where her ashes had been scattered six years ago.

The rain began to fall.

"She never gave up hope that you would return home," the old woman said, her hand resting on his shoulder, "She asked me to hold onto some things for you, should you ever return."

Alim tried to breathe, to release the fury at his mother's death, before the rain absorbed it and drowned all of southern Ferelden.

It might get at least some of the horde, but…

No, it would cause more harm than good, Alim would not risk harming the people of Lothering.

He would not become the monster they feared him to be.

Finally…he felt his control return; he could not stop the rain, but…

His sorrow had to be vented some way.

"How," he begged her.

The old elf frowned.

"She took sick shortly after you left, she never fully recovered," Delwyn said sadly, "I don't think she ever forgave herself for letting the Templars take you."

Alim clutched his hands into angry fists, he was furious at the Templars, the chantry, and most of all at himself.

"I killed her," he growled.

"No lad," the older woman replied, "Never think that, your mother did not!"

"I should have been here; I should have hidden my magic better!"

"You were an innocent child," the woman replied, her voice a soothing purr. She knew something about the lad's erratic moods. She needed him to keep calm.

"Where is the Bann," Alim asked, he needs to rally his men, the darkspawn are coming."

"He marched off with the Teyrn days ago," Delwyn responded, "His lordship is gathering men to protect Ferelden against the Orlesian loyalists that have overrun the nobility."

Alim felt a fresh surge of hatred for Loghain. Orlais…really, did the old fool not see the darkspawn horde, did he think they would simply leave Ferelden alone if ignored?

"You said you had some of my Mother's things?" he asked.

The elf woman nodded.

"I will take them, but then you must flee this place, the horde will sweep over Lothering in a matter of days!"

"But this is our home," the woman whimpered, "The Bann will be very cross if he returns and finds us gone. We can't…"

Part of him wanted to shake the old elf, to make her understand. He found himself praying that his words would be enough.

"There will not be anything left for the Bann to return to," Alim growled, "The darkspawn kill everything in their path. Please…" the elf begged, "In my Mother's name, save who you can, run north as far and a fast as you can!"

"What will happen to you?" she asked.

Alim wanted to tell her he would be all right, but he could not say that for certain.

"I am a Grey Warden," he said trying to sound braver than he felt, "I must stay."

AT the mention of his warden status, the old woman actually smiled.

"Then you have made your parents proud then lad," she said offering him a curtsey, "I will…try to convince as many of the others as I can to flee."

"Thank you Miss Delwyn," he replied.

"No, thank you dear boy, for staying to defend us," the old elf woman embraced him then, it was the first time in years anyone had ever hugged him like this.

"Maker watch over you Alim Surana," she whispered.

"And over you Milady," he replied.

IOI

Alistair looked up as Alim returned; the elf's scowl had deepened if that was possible. He carried a small sack over his back, far less than one might expect to start any kind of expedition.

"No supplies," Alistair inquired.

Alim glared at him, he looked like he was ready to bite his fellow warden's head off…but in the end the elf she gave a tired sigh.

"No," he grumbled, "We should push on; Lothering is only about another hours walk down the road."

Morrigan gave Alim an odd look, did she know that he had an ulterior motive for visiting this place.

Alim found that he no longer cared. He led them forward, shooting one final look at the Bann of Lothering's estate.

HE would never see this place again, nor stand over his mother's grave again.

He wanted to remember this moment…always.

So that when the time came he would be able to shove a lightning bolt down Loghain's throat in his Mother's name.

It would not make everything all right…

But it would be a start.


	8. The Village of Lothering

**Chapter 8: The Village of Lothering**

"Ah, and here we are," Morrigan purred softly.

Alim glanced up; they were finally just outside the entrance to Lothering. The village was much as he remembered from his childhood. The great windmill, the various shops and smiths, of course it had never looked so crowded before, humans and elves were everywhere. He could hear the sound of weeping and cries of despair.

"Just a guess, but I think the people of Lothering are aware of the approaching darkspawn Horde," Alistair remarked.

Alim could not help but agree; you could almost smell the sense of fear and despair in this place.

_The sooner we're out of here the better_, the elf thought.

But it was clear that they would not be simply walking in. The way was blocked, he counted at least a dozen armed men, they had pulled a wagon across the road, it was clear that they intended to stop anyone fleeing north. One of them broke off from the rest and approached Alim and his companions.

"Wake up gentlemen, more travelers to attend to, and led by an elf of all things!" the man exclaimed.

This man was obviously the leader, a dark skinned man with short black hair, smirked at him. It was clear that the man thought that he was some kind of easy mark.

If these fools decided to push this they would find out exactly how wrong they were.

"Umm, these don't look like them others," a stocky man behind the later said, his eyes clearly focused on Alistair and Morrigan. "The others before…maybe we should just let them pass?"

"Nonsense," the leader replied, "Greetings travelers, welcome to Lothering!"

"Highwaymen," he heard Alistair whisper behind him, preying on those fleeing the darkspawn I suppose."

Alim shook his head, _No shit Captain Obvious_, he thought.

Morrigan sneered at the men's dirty leathers, and grubby faces. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"They are fools to get in our way," the witch purred, "I say we teach them a lesson."

"Now is that anyway to talk good woman," the leader clucked, "A simple ten silvers and your free to go on your way."

Alim glanced first at the leader, then at the stocky man who had spoken. These men were common thieves, and he had other things to deal with that correcting such men. Still…The servants fleeing the Bann's estate would likely be passing through here soon. He had no desire to see them suffer.

It seemed like he would have to get involved after all.

"You should listen to your friend," he warned, "We're not refugees."

"What did I tell you," the stocky man added, "No wagons…and that one is armed," he said gesturing towards Alistair.

The leader was not impressed.

"The toll applies to everyone Heinrich," the leader told his subordinate, "That is why it is a toll, and not simply a refugee tax."

"Ohhh, yeah…right," the stocky man nodded dumbly, "Even if you lot are no refugees…you still got to pay."

Alim hated to admit it, but Morrigan's suggestion was looking better and better all the time. He glanced skyward, the rain from earlier had stopped, but there was still plenty of clouds overhead.

Perfect for his use if needs be.

"We aren't paying you," Alim said crossing his arms.

"Well…can't say I'm glad to hear that," the leader shrugged.

"So we get to ransack your corpses then," Heinrich repeated, he pointed to the left side of the thieves' cart. Alim could make out several bodies lying there.

"Them's the rules," Heinrich finished.

Behind Alim Alistair took a step back, his shield slid down from his back unto his arm, his other rested on the hilt of his sword, Morrigan leaned lightly on her staff, but it was clear that she could raise it at a moment's notice.

Between the three of them they could likely wipe these stupid bastards out, but at the same time, Alim did not wanted to go advertising to Loghain that there were Grey Wardens who survived Ostagar, secrecy would serve them better than violence at this point.

He tried one final time to stop this before it went any further.

"You really don't want to fight two mages and their escort do you?" he asked them.

"A mage!" Heinrich gasped, he turned to his leader with fear in his eyes, "I don't want to be a toad!"

"No one is turning you into a toad you sniveling bastard," the leader grumbled, he turned to Alim a cruel smirk on his face, "Listen little fella, you don't want to go causing all this trouble do you?" I can…"

_Little fella?_

Alim's elven ears laid flat like an angry cat, fury flashed in his dark eyes.

_**LITTLE FELLA!**_

**That did it!** He had had enough of these fools!

He let his anger touch the clouds above, they answered his call.

Two lightning bolts crashed down on the bandits.

They both struck the stocky thief Heinrich…he did not even have time to scream.

His burnt corpse fell to the ground.

"Andraste's blood!" Alistair gasped.

"What!" the leader shouted, his panicked eyes fell on Alim.

The elf smirked at him…little fella indeed.

"Oops," Alim chuckled.

Morrigan giggled evilly.

"You…you knife eared runt!" the leader drew his weapons, his fellows followed suit, "I will slaughter you for…"

The man never got the chance to finish, a large snarling wall of brown fur slammed into him, his sword flew from his hands.

Alim and his companions attacked. Alim threw fire, while Morrigan threw ice; Alistair waded into them swinging his sword and shield.

Of the remaining thieves only four scampered away, leaving their goods behind.

Alim glanced down at the dead leader, his throat had been torn out, sitting next to him was the one who did it, wagging his stubby tail happily.

It was a mabari war hound.

Alim smiled, he kneeled down and patted the huge dog. It sighed happily.

"I…I think this is the dog from the Kennels at Ostagar," Alim said quietly, "wonder how he got here?"

Alistair looked affectionately down on the dog, as a boy he had spent many a night in the kennels at Redcliffe.

"I…I think he was out looking for you Lim," Alistair answered, "He…he has chosen you, Mabari are like that…it is called imprinting."

The dog barked a loud affirmative.

"My Father was a Kennel Master Alistair," Alim retorted, "I do know what imprinting is."

He had meant those words to be angry, but they had not come out that way. As a boy he had watched his father working with the young Mabari. The Bann had them sleeping with pieces of cloth that he owned so that they would all imprint onto him. As a boy Alim had always wished to have a Mabari of his own.

It seemed that the Maker had finally granted his wish.

"Does this mean we have to have this mangy beast following us around now?" Morrigan snorted, "How wonderful!"

"He is not mangy," Alistair said grinning at the dog.

"No he isn't," Alim agreed, a silly grin split the elf's face, his first since learning of his mother's death, "Still…he needs a name," the elf thought, he needed something special, "You certainly dealt with that bandit nice and quick didn't you boy. Guess you were a far better bandit than him. Hmm," his elven ears twitched, "Bandit…we will call you Bandit, what do you think boy? Do you like Bandit?"

Bandit barked in the affirmative.

Morrigan shook her head, seeing Alim bonding with some flea-ridden beast was not her idea of fun. She moved over to the thieves abandoned crates. Weapons, food, even some armor was there. Plus… a bag with at least a hundred silvers inside.

The witch smiled, she did not think anyone would mind if they helped themselves.

IOI

Both wardens joined her, Alim found a half-eaten turkey leg; he tossed it to Bandit, who devoured the meat from it in two gulps. Poor dog had to be starved from running for days out in the wilds.

Morrigan helped herself to any jewelry she found; the witch had a taste for shiny baubles.

Soon they had coin, food, poultices, and even a few items for trade.

Not bad for start to their little quest, Alim grinned, hopefully there would still be a few traders in Lothering, they would need more supplies before their next stop.

Last night they had discussed how best to proceed, Alistair had felt that Flemeth's suggestion of fulfilling the treaties was the best idea. They needed to gather an army to face the Archdemon. He also suggested going to Arl Eamon of Redcliffe, Alistair said that he knew the man and that he would help them.

Alim was not too sure; right now they had nothing to offer the nobles but three pieces of vellum. Alim preferred to actually have support from at least one of the groups that they had treaties for, before they went to remind the nobles of Ferelden of their obligations.

_He wanted to have something more to fall back on then their asses._

Surprisingly Alistair let him have his way. The elf was not sure why but Alistair seemed to want him to take the lead. Not that Alim minded; it was just that Alistair was technically his superior.

Still if Alistair wanted to place the fate of all of Ferelden in Alim's hands…so be it.

_It was only just the fate of the world after all…no pressure._

He accepted…after a brief panic attack of course.

Now they were here in Lothering, it was a lot smaller than Alim remembered; of course he had not seen the place since he was eight years old.

He suggested trying the tavern first. He remembered his Father saying many times that you could find anything you wanted if you waited long enough inside Dane's Refuge.

So he took the lead, Morrigan volunteered to find the supplies they needed, personally Alim thought the witch just wanted to get away from Alistair for a while.

The elf smirked…there were definitely sparks between the witch and his fellow warden. Whether that turned to hate or passion remained to be seen. He had come to enjoy getting a rise out of his fellow warden by hinting at such things. Alistair swore that the elf was crazy! He would not touch Morrigan with a twenty foot lance!

Alim laughed.

They certainly acted like they hated one another, whether that was true remained to be seen.

Meanwhile, Alim needed more information; they had been out of touch for almost two weeks during their time in the wilds.

They needed to know more.

Alim sighed as he glanced around the tiny village, he still could not believe that he was back here. He saw no familiar faces, but that was no big surprise. As a boy he had rarely come into the village proper, and the one time that he had, had been the time that he had tried to defend the Miller's daughter.

That had not gone very well for him, and he had spent the last twelve years in the circle as a result.

Not the best memory to be sure.

Still…it was nice to see the old place again. Lothering had not been the worse place to grow up, and he would have preferred to grow up here rather than the years he spent locked up in the tower.

Not that the villagers would have let him stay after what had happened.

The elf shook his head, now was not really the time for nostalgia, they had work to do after all. Then he would have to leave here again, likely for the last time.

He could not help feeling a little sad about that.

"Home sweet home," he murmured under his breath.

IOI

Dane's refuge was like most Taverns in Thedas, it was dirty crowded and loud, made even more so by the approach of the darkspawn horde. People were packed in the small building, the scent of sweat, cheap ale, and fear was thick in the air. The Minstrels played to keep the people as calm as possible, but it was clear that everyone here saw the writing on the wall.

The darkspawn were coming, and it was only a matter of time.

Some chose to drown their fears of the death the creatures would bring in the ale that was served here. Others gambled and looked for other vices to satisfy their appetites as Lothering entered its final days.

The elf felt sorry for them, but there was nothing he could do.

He and his allies could do nothing to protect these people from the darkspawn, at least not yet.

Alim, Alistair, and Bandit entered Dane's Refuge; the tavern was packed with refugees, locals, miners, and soldiers.

Soldiers that regarded the two wardens with curiosity, they rose from their chairs moving to surround them.

"Shit," Alim said under his breath.

"Look here men," the soldiers' captain sneered, "I think we have just been blessed."

"Loghain's men," Alistair spat, the wyvern of Gwaren stood out plainly on the soldiers' shields, "this can't be good."

Alim rolled his eyes, Captain Obvious strikes again!

"Weren't we asking about an elf of this very description?" another soldier asked, "And everyone said they had not seen one?"

"It seems that we have been lied to," the captain said glaring at Alim.

The elf shook his head, this was not the best place for a fight, no room to maneuver, and Alim did not want to set the Refuge on fire with his powers.

This fight would not be pretty.

A voice from behind interrupted them.

"Gentlemen…surely, there is no need for trouble, these are no doubt simply more travelers seeking refuge."

Alim turned, his eyes narrowed angrily.

It was a chantry sister!

She was beautiful in her own way he supposed, ice blue eyes, pale skin, and short copper red hair. Her accent hinted that she had spent a great deal of time in Orlais, which was not surprising, many young initiates were sent from Val Royeaux out into the land of dogs and barbarians…at least that was how the Orlesians saw it.

Alim glared, he did not need this…this …chantry cow's help.

"Go away," he snapped, "We don't need your protection."

The sister was undaunted.

"You may not need by protection," she shrugged, "but these blind fools will follow their master's commands even into death."

The soldiers glanced at the sister; they had not expected her to speak of them with such…disrespect.

"I am not the blind one," their leader growled, "I fought at Ostagar, where the Teyrn saved us from the Grey Wardens' treachery!"

Alim's eyes widened, what in the name of Andraste's tits was the man talking about?

"Enough talk," the captain ordered, "Take these Grey Wardens into custody! Kill the sister, and anyone else who gets in your way!"

Alistair started to move, to aid in the sister's defense…

He need not have worried.

One of the soldiers grabbed her arm that had been a mistake. The sister seized his hand spinning around behind him; she twisted the soldier's arm…it snapped in two places.

She swung out her leg sweeping the captain off his feet; he fell to the ground with a hard crash. She yanked his dagger from his belt and brought it to the man's throat.

"Don't move," the sister snarled her blue eyes two icy pools.

Alim stood in shock, what was that!

Alistair barreled over two of the Loghain archers, one dropped his weapon, but the other went for his dagger…

Alistair decapitated the man.

Alim gestured, two more of the soldiers' weapons turned red hot, melting over their gauntleted hands. They dropped what was left of their swords, cursing madly, and trying to put out the flames.

"We surrender!" the captain shouted, the sister tightened the blade against his throat, "I said we surrender."

"Good," she purred, "the battle is over and we can all stop fighting now."

Alim advanced on the Captain, his eyes glowed with magic and fury, and "they can't be allowed to report back to Loghain."

"No," the Captain cowered, "please wait!"

The sister stepped in front of the elf, she continued to hold her blade on the captain, but it was clear that she would not let Alim pass.

"Get out of the way!" he snapped.

"They have surrendered; they were no match for you. Please…let them be."

Alim almost threw fire at the woman, but held his temper, she…she had not been required to help them, but she had.

That bought her at least some consideration.

"They meant to murder us," Alim growled.

"But they failed," she reminded him, she blocked his path, her arms crossed stubbornly over her ample chest, "please… I do not wish death on anyone."

Alim was furious at her for denying him his kill, but she had fought well…

"Then they had better leave before I change my mind." the elf said gruffly.

The injured soldiers slunk out of the tavern, their leader still sputtering curses at the elf and the woman.

The people in the Tavern relaxed again, music started playing, and the card games resumed.

The violence was finished at least for now.

The sister shook her head, before returning her attention to the wardens.

"I apologize for interfering," she offered, but I could not just sit by and not help."

Alim was about to tell her that her apology was not accepted when Alistair chimed in beating him to the punch.

"You're quite welcome," the human warden replied.

Alim sighed. It seemed that Alistair was grateful for the woman's help…how lovely.

""I'm glad that you found it in your heart to show those men mercy," she said with a slight bow, "The Maker will surely smile on you for it.

"I did not do it to please your god," Alim spat.

The woman fell silent not sure how to respond to the elf's venom.

"You're very welcome," Alistair chimed in, "if you do not mind me asking where did a sister learn to fight like that?"

"I was not born in the chantry you know," she responded with a warm smile, "Some of us led more…interesting lives before we joined the chantry."

Alim continued to glare at the Orlesian sister. He did not understand why Alistair was wasting time talking with her, they needed to move, in case those soldiers had reinforcements nearby.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Leliana," she said with a curtsey, "one of the lay sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering…or I was."

"Was?" Alistair asked.

"I joined the chantry for a life of religious contemplation, but I am no priest, not even an initiate." the woman frowned.

Alim shook his head, wonderful…she wasn't even a full priest, and she still stood up for those louts.

_Crazy woman!_

"I'm Alistair," the former Templar offered, "this is my friend and fellow Warden Alim."

"That is right, that man said you were a warden didn't he?" her eyes fell on Alim, he glared at her, "I'm a bit surprised you are an elf, but elves must wish to see the blight defeated to…no?"

Alim could not tell if that was a slam on him being an elf or a warden, either would have infuriated him, both had made it ten times worse.

_He just wanted to get out of here, away from this cheery __**chantry cow**__._

"You will be battling the darkspawn yes, that is what Grey Wardens do?" she continued

"Yes sister," Alim said with a frosty voice, "why would you care?"

"Because I am coming along," she informed him.

The elf sputtered, not sure how best to respond.

Alistair chuckled; he had never seen Alim's face and ears turn so red before. He would not let the elf hurt the sister, but he could not deny that he was enjoying the show.

"And why would you want to do that?" Alim asked coldly.

"Because the Maker told me to." She replied matter of factly.

Alistair gave her a quizzical look. Alim just glared at the woman.

_The Maker told her to?_

Alim shook his head, _**nice**_…she was no only one of the Chantry's religious zealots, but she was crazy to boot.

The elf shook his head, this day just kept getting better and better…

_**NOT!**_


	9. The Caged Qunari

**Chapter 9: The Caged Qunari**

Morrigan hurried down the path leading to Dane's Refuge, an amused smirk on her lips and a bit of spring in her step. Alim had charged her with finding supplies for the next leg of their journey.

The elven warden would not be disappointed.

The witch had traded a few of her spare poultices to some village shrew from some silver. Then she had chased off several Chantry twits who were harassing some poor merchant who was only trying to conduct a little business.

"May you get everything you deserve," the chantry wench spat angrily at her as she retreated.

Morrigan merely nodded, thanking the woman.

_Yes…she would get everything she wanted, that…and far __**more.**_

The villagers ignored her for the most part; the fools had far more dire things on their mind then her. Still…every once and a while one would glance her way, glance and hold their stare, Morrigan's hand would go up to her face self-consciously, checking her nose for any imperfections.

She cursed herself for her weakness, and the Templar twit that made her feel this way.

**Damn you to the darkest of pits Alistair!**

She spotted several wounded soldiers fleeing the tavern; it seemed that the two wardens had been busy.

Morrigan smiled.

She had not been pleased that her Mother had cast her out with these two, but understood the necessity of it. The plan required that she get closer to the wardens and that is what she would do. Alim intrigued her she did not mind saying, far more than Alistair; his precious chantry had turned a man who had the potential to be a fearless warrior and turned him into a fool.

Had Alistair been born among the chasind, she might have considered taking him to her bed; he would likely have produced a strong daughter, the kind that would have made a fine apprentice to her one day.

Of course if such a union had occurred, Mother would have demanded that she kill the man after he had made her with child. After all, that was what Flemeth had always done.

Not that Morrigan agreed with everything her Mother did of course. She had taken a lover or two in the last two years, and they had survived. Of course those had just been trysts to slake her lust and feed her curiosity.

She had found no man yet worthy of getting her with child.

If only Alistair had not been such a dim-witted moron!

Sadly…all that potential had been wasted on Chantry dogma…such a pity.

She entered the tavern, finding it as dark, foul-smelling, and loud as she had expected such a place to be. Alim sat had a table with Alistair, having a heated conversation if the redness of the elf's face was any indication.

The witch grew curious. She made her way over to the two men, eager to hear what had happened.

IOI

"No."

Alistair gave the elf an incredulous look, "We could use her help Alim."

"I said no," the elf repeated, "We don't need some…some chantry sister following us around and telling us how what we are doing is not the Maker's will."

"It is the fact she said she had a vision isn't it?" Alistair asked.

The elf fidgeted.

"Partly," Alim agreed.

The sister had returned to her table while the two wardens discussed bringing her along on their journey.

Alistair had been the first person to suggest that the woman was crazy; he sincerely doubted that the Maker had appeared to this Leliana in a dream and told her to come with them. Still…he could not doubt her skills, the sister had disabled to fully armed soldiers in less than ten seconds. Such a person would be invaluable in their quest against the Blight, crazy or not.

Alim was not convinced; Alistair was not sure what it was with Alim and the Chantry. It was likely just an elf thing he supposed, he had met plenty of elves over the years that still blamed the humans for the destruction of their homeland in the Dales.

If that was the case then there was likely nothing that anyone could do to change his fellow warden's mind.

"For all we know this woman might be a spy left behind by Loghain," Alim hissed, "Chantry sisters don't fight like that, she may have been sitting here just waiting to pretend to take down those men to get into our good graces."

Alistair had not considered that, it was possible he supposed, but still…he did not want to turn away help if it was offered. They had accepted Morrigan after all…

Alistair looked up, speaking of a certain complete and utter bitch.

"What has happened," Morrigan asked sitting down beside them, "I saw some soldiers fleeing?"

"A chantry sister stopped them from arresting us," Alistair informed her, "she has asked to accompany us on our little journey.

Morrigan's eyes narrowed.

"You told her no I hope Alim?" she asked.

"She is not coming with us," Alim said flatly.

Alistair shook his head, how could the elf be so stubborn?"

"But Alim," he began, "She…"

"I SAID NO ALISTAIR!" the elf growled, "You decided to put me in charge and that is my decision. She is not coming with us and that is final!"

Alim rose from his chair and made for the door, Bandit padded quickly after him. Morrigan rose and gave Alistair an evil smirk.

He fought the urge to give the witch the finger.

Leliana looked after them like a puppy being left home alone, Alistair went to console her, he…he would try again to convince Alim to let her in before they left.

She very well might be crazy, but Alistair knew in his heart that she could help.

IOI

Alim cursed under his breath, he knew what Alistair had told him made sense, but he could not in good conscience let the sister in.

If she was some Loghain spy that would likely be the end of them all, he had to think of the larger picture here.

Chantry sisters understood nothing but the cold empty faith of their god.

Not one of them understood what it meant to love someone, to want to protect them.

He had made the right choice, he was sure of it.

Still…they would need help.

"Alim," Morrigan said coming up beside him.

"Yes," the elf said gruffly.

"There is something I think you will want to see," the witch said grinning, "I believe I may have found another warrior for our cause."

"Just tell me it is not another Chantry sister?" the elf said giving her a pained look.

"Oh no," Morrigan smirked, "I can assure you that… this…is definitely not a friend of the chantry."

Alim could deny it, his curiosity was peaked, he followed the witch out of the village, to the cages that held criminals waiting to be shipped off to Denerim.

What they found there was a surprise to be sure.

IOI

Leliana watched them go, watched as the wardens left to fulfill their mission, watched as they left her behind.

She felt…shocked…was it possible the vision had been wrong?

No, she could not accept that, she knew in her heart that what she had seen in her vision had been Maker sent. She was also sure that the elf…this…Alim was the stranger who had aided her on the peak, but then why did he not want her along? Why did he want them to leave without her?

Leliana had no answers.

Doubt gnawed at her resolve, perhaps this had been just one big mistake.

Part of her wondered if she should just return to the chantry. The Revered Mother would certainly accept her back, there was still much to do before they could evacuate, she could even…

Something stopped her cold; a shiver ran down her spine, almost as if she felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

In that moment…Leliana realized that she could not let the wardens leave without her.

She had to do something, convince them that she needed to come along.

She rose from her chair and began to follow after the two wardens and their companions.

There had to be something that she could do to convince the wardens of her sincerity.

She could not help but feel that this journey was meant for her, that the Maker had led her here for this one moment.

She could not turn her back on it…not now.

It was the Maker's will.

IOI

Alim could only stare at the cage before him, to say the sight that greeted him was unusual to say the least.

As unusual as the very large man locked inside it.

The man inside the cage was a giant, there was no other possible word for him. He was powerfully built with long grey dreadlocks falling from the back of his head. He kneeled inside the cage, lost in prayer, he spoke in a language Alim had never heard before.

What was he? Alim had no idea.

The large man looked up at him with reddish brown eyes, he rose to his feet showing neither fear nor weakness.

Alim could respect that.

"You are not one of my captors," the man said flatly, "I have nothing to say that will amuse you elf. Leave me in peace."

"I…I mean no respect ser," Alim nodded removing his hat, "Forgive me for asking, but what are you?"

The giant's eyes narrowed.

"A prisoner, I am in a cage am I not?"

Morrgan shot the man a pitying look.

"This…is a proud and powerful creature," she sighed, "Trapped as prey for the darkspawn. If I were you I would release him for mercy's sake alone."

Alistair gave the witch a surprised look.

"Mercy," the former Templar snorted, "that is not something I expect from you?"

The witch glared at him, " I also suggest that Alistair take his place in the cage," She said coldly.

"Now that is what I expected," the former Templar smirked.

The giant ignored them. This was not the first time that Bas had stopped here and contemplated his end.

"I suggest you leave me to my fate," the large man suggested.

Alim did not understand why such a man would want to stay here and die?

"Is what you did so horrible that you should die for it?" the elf asked.

It was at that moment that Leliana finally caught up with them.

"The Revered Mother said he slaughtered an entire family," she informed the wardens, "even…the children."

Alim was about to yell at the sister to leave them alone when the giant responded to her.

"It…it is as she says," the giant nodded, "I am Sten of the Beresaad, the vanguard of the Qunari peoples."

A Qunari, Alim could not help but be a little shocked, what in Andraste's name was a Qunari doing this far south? He had heard the name of course, the scourge of the north, an unending flood of heretical warriors that slaughtered or converted all in their path.

For a moment he imagined a thousand of such men sweeping towards him over a battlefield.

It made him shudder. Of course…Qunari were renowned as warriors….hmm…Morrigan was right, they needed him for the fight against the Blight, but first they needed to convince him to join them.

Alim decide to try respect first.

"I am Alim, Ser," the elf said with a bow, "It is a pleasure to meet you."

The Qunari quirked his eyebrows.

"You mock me," the Qunari said thoughtfully, "Or perhaps you merely show manners I'm unaccustomed to in your lands."

"So…um," Alim fidgeted, this was…awkward, "Did…you…did you do it? Are you guilty?"

"Are you asking if I feel guilt or am I responsible for the deed," the Qunari sighed, "No matter how I feel. No matter what I've done, death will be my atonement now."

"There are other ways you can find atonement…no?" Leliana chimed in.

Sten glared at her.

"And what do you feel would best make up for my crime?" he asked her.

Alim could not help but smile, the sister had set this up perfectly.

"You could help us defend our home against the Blight," Alim added.

"The Blight?" the Qunari's eyes widened, "Are…are you a Grey Warden then?"

"I am," Alim admitted,

"Surprising," the Qunari responded, Alim could not help but wonder if that was some kind of dig, "I…I have heard tales of the Grey Wardens strength and skills. It would indeed be better to meet my death in battle then meet it waiting here."

Alim turned to Leliana, even though he did not want her with them, she would know more about this matter than he would.

He hoped that she would answer honestly.

"Would the Revered Mother let him go?" he asked, "If the Grey Wardens asked her to?"

The sister frowned.

"I am not sure," she admitted, "The Revered Mother can be a stubborn woman," Leliana knew that to be a bit of an understatement, but here she saw an opportunity to put herself in the elf's graces. She would not let it pass by.

"I will speak to her for you, if you like?" she offered.

Alim suppressed a growl; he did not like it, asking the woman for help, but given the circumstances…

"I…thank you," he responded.

The red-haired sister beamed, she turned and led them back towards the chantry.

Morrigan rolled her eyes as she followed; she hoped that Alim would not change his mind. Alistair grinned; the sister seemed to have Alim's number on this one.

"She still isn't coming with us when we leave," Alim muttered.

Alistair shrugged.

They would see.

IOI

The Chantry was a busy place, not that it was surprising, people thought both religious comfort and protection from this Templars here in this dark time.

Sadly the chantry had little to offer.

Leliana led them past the panicked crowds and her fellow sisters that were attempting to tend to them. The scared villagers watched Alim with fear while the Templars stared at him with suspicion.

The elf rolled his eyes, they all had a little more to worry about now then the elven mage in their midst. He understood now why Morrigan had elected to wait outside.

There had been a terrified chasind in the chantry courtyard; the man had been spewing words of doom and gloom, frightening the poor people here.

Alim had nearly electrocuted the man, but it was Alistair and the sister who had stepped up, they had confronted the man about his fears, and sent him scampering off sobbing at his own weakness.

Alistair had surprised the elf out there; he had actually spoken without sarcasm for once, and had calmed the people who had been so close to rioting in fear, or so close to giving up hope.

Morrigan watched this with a curious eye; she shook her head, and left when Alistair realized that she was watching him.

And so the dance continues, Alim had thought.

They found the Revered Mother in her office; Alim hoped that she would be up for their idea.

IOI

"A Grey Warden…here…oh dear!" the Revered Mother said nervously, you put me in an awkward position. You do know that Teyrn Loghain has proclaimed all Grey Wardens to be outlaws, responsible for the King's death?"

"We did here that your Reverence yes," Alistair said with bow, Alim rolled his eyes; the old woman did not deserve any respect in his eyes. She had hit them up for a tithe as soon as they had entered, like her precious chantry would be surviving the next few days.

"But it is Teyrn Loghain who was responsible for the King's death," Alistair informed her.

"Teyrn Loghain?" the woman shook her head, "I find that as hard to believe as his condemnation of the wardens, lay low and I will say nothing of your presence here. Now…if there is nothing else?"

"WE need to talk about the Qunari you have locked up outside," Alim blurted out.

The Revered Mother sighed, "Perhaps it would have been better to execute him, but I have left his fate to the Maker."

To the darkspawn actually, Alim thought angrily.

"We would like him released Your Reverence," Alistair added, "The Grey Wardens may have use for him."

The woman looked shocked at the suggestion.

"Then his next victims may count us as their murderers," she spat.

"You could release him into our custody," Alim said through gritted teeth, he did not like being respectful to any chantry sister. Even back in the tower he had went out of his way to avoid them.

"I…no I am sorry," the woman said shaking her head, "I cannot take the risk to the people here. The beast will remain caged, it is the Makers will."

Alim was about to bite the woman's head off over that, how could she condemn the Qunari to be ripped apart by the darkspawn? He would likely die fighting anyway? Would it not be better that they just got him out of here?

Leliana stepped forward a sad look on her face.

"That is unfortunate your Reverence," she said, she embraced the woman in a tight hug, "We do thank you for your time however."

"It is not problem child," the woman said with a smile, "Go with our blessing sister Leliana, and May the Maker watch over you."

The red head smiled back," And over you." She replied

IOI

Alim grumbled like a storm cloud as they left the chantry. He was not giving up no matter what that miserable old bat said.

"This is not over," he whispered to Alistair, "we will leave for now, come back and get the Qunari after it is dark."

Alistair frowned; he did not like this idea.

"I'm not leaving someone that can help us behind," the elf snapped.

"There is no need to wait," Leliana offered.

Alim glared at her, why was she even still here?

She held out her hand.

Alim looked down.

The Key to the Qunari's cage was in her hand.

Alistair was shocked.

Alim looked up into the sister's eyes, she smiled slyly.

"I took it off her Reverence's belt when I hugged her," the sister informed them, "We need all the help we can to stop the Blight, no?" the sister shrugged, "We can free the Qunari just before we leave. I do not think that Ser Bryant will have time to pursue us over this."

Alistair could not believe that! She had stolen from a Revered Mother!

Alim could not help but chuckle; he turned mumbling something at the Leliana.

"I'm sorry," she said, "But I did not here that last part warden?"

Alim paused; Maker save him if this was a mistake.

"I said you can come along," he said through gritted teeth.

The sister smiled broadly.

"Thank you, thank you for giving me this chance," she gushed, "I will not let you down! I must hurry and grab my things from the chantry, I will not be long."

She hurried off then, leaving Alim shaking his head. He glared up at Alistair who was grinning victoriously.

"Not a word," the elf spat, stalking off.

Bandit fell in behind him panting happily. Morrigan glanced hatefully over her shoulder at the retreating Leliana.

She turned to Alim and shook her head.

"Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than Mother thought," she offered.

Alim paused.

Part of him couldn't help but agree.


	10. A Few Silvers More

**Chapter 10: A few Silvers More**

The wardens were still in Lothering, everyone had agreed that they needed to raise a little more coin before moving on. It was Alistair who had suggested the Chanter's Board. Alim had not been too happy with that idea, but in the end he had relented, did it really matter where they got their coin from.

Killing the bandits that had been living in the woods north of Lothering was by far the most lucrative of the items posted.

It also gave Leliana a chance to prove herself to her new companions.

She did not intend to let them down.

IOI

"He is getting away," Alim warned her.

"No he isn't," Leliana said softly, trying to reassure the warden.

The battle was over, two enemy Mabari laid dead, along with their handlers and two archers. Morrigan tended to Alistair's wounds while Bandit waited patiently for Alim's next order. The bandits' leader was running, trying to get out of range of Leliana's bow. She carefully loaded an arrow…and waited.

Leliana was not worried; she brought up her bow, the arrow nocked and ready. The last of the bandits was fast…but he was not fast enough.

She took a breath, savoring this one moment before she let her arrow fly.

A hint of a smile played over her lips, she could feel her heart beat a little faster, the excitement, the tension in her bow.

_There had been a time when she had lived for this kind of thing._

IOI

She had returned from the chantry clad in her old armor, it felt…strange wearing it again, the creaking of her leather vest, the breeze on her bare legs. She took notice of how the ribbons on her boots had faded; she would have to replace them at the first opportunity. Her daggers were sheathed on her belt, her long bow and quiver on her back, it felt oh so familiar, like a favorite book read long ago.

Alim regarded the change, the elf nodded, seeing her in armor made her easier to stomach somehow.

"Are you any good with those?" he asked, pointing to her daggers.

"Oh yes," she smiled enigmatically, "But I'm better with this," she said tapping the bow lightly.

"We will see," Alim said with a flat snort. He had turned and strode away.

Leliana grinned and followed after him.

The elf sighed.

Despite his feelings regarding chantry sisters, Alim found himself admiring the way the armor fit the sister's body, how it was snug in all the right places.

_Stop it damn it, she is a chantry sister for Maker's sake!_

Alim shook his head. He had ago long realized that he had one major weakness; it was a weakness that had got him in trouble more times than he liked to think about, but it was something that her could not deny, nor truly wanted to deny.

Alim Surana was a sucker for beautiful women. When he was eight, he had had a crush on the miller's daughter that was why he had protected her in the first place. In the tower it had been worse, he lost count of all the times a beautiful apprentice had talked him into doing something foolish on her behalf. Not to mention all the times he had been punished for those mistakes, but he had always kept silent when Irving had asked him to name names.

He protected each and every one of them, he had received nothing in response to his sacrifices of course, but still he went back every time like the poor led fool he was.

_No woman was interested in a too short elf, with too large ears,_ he thought bitterly. He needed to remain focused now.

He just had to remember what the red head was.

_She was a sister, and was not to be trusted._

He would not make this mistake again; the sister was just that, a sister. No matter how good she looked in her armor, he was not going to allow himself to become enamored with her.

All he had to do was think of the robes she wore, that self-righteous attitude that every sister he had ever known had used.

All he had to do was think about Jowan, and how he had destroyed his life all for the love of a chantry sister.

After that, ignoring the red haired sister was easy, and he could focus completely on the business of stopping the Blight.

But first they needed to get more coin, so that was why they needed to hunt bandits.

_Easy enough of a job to be sure. _

IOI

The bandits had divided themselves into three groups, one by one the wardens had dealt with them, until only this last one remained, the last survivor…a man in heavy chainmail tried to run.

Leliana was determined to not let him get that far.

"Sister," Alim repeated, "Either shoot him or get out of the way."

"Of course warden," she purred.

The bandit paused, he was out of breath, and looked back to see if he was being pursued.

Leliana released her arrow.

It took the man in the right eye. He fell without a sound.

Alim's eyes widened, that…that had been a fantastic shot.

Alistair whistled; the sister was certainly a woman of many talents.

Morrigan rolled her eyes, "Can we free the Qunari and get out of here now?" she asked.

Leliana sauntered up lazily, eager to retrieve her arrow, it had been a long time since she had done anything like this, had felt like this, her blood pumping, the excitement of the hunt, the thrill of the kill.

It brought a rosy glow to her cheeks.

Alim went over the man's body collecting any spare coin or supplies. He pulled the man's great sword from its sheath. It was…in decent condition, could be a good weapon for their future Qunari companion.

Leliana watched them tend to the bodies. How many times had she done the same after a job, joyfully seeking treasure amongst those who no longer needed it?

_We're the same._

Those word drew her up short, she…she could still here Marjolaine so clearly, even after two years past.

_We're the same._

"No," she had said coldly, "I am nothing like you!"

"_So you say…but here you stand, weapon in hand."_

"Leliana, are you okay?"

Alistair question snapped her out of her memory, she felt…dirty. The old memory had leeched any joy or excitement from this moment. She was not that person anymore; she did not take pleasure in the suffering of others.

She was a better person now. She served the Maker.

_We're the same._

"Leliana?" Alistair repeated.

"Yes Alistair," she coughed trying to distance herself from the pleasure she had taken in this act, "I…I am fine."

It was a lie of course, but at least…she had told it well.

"I think that is the last of them," Alim sighed, "Let's go back to that chanter, and get our coin, I want to be on the road again before dark."

"Tis a wonderful idea warden," Morrigan sniffed, "Provided we are done trying to solve the problems of every man, woman, and child in this village."

Alim could not help but snort at that, there was little more that they could do here. The citizens of Lothering had been warned. Now they needed to take it upon themselves to get out of the village before the horde arrived.

The wardens had given these people a chance, now they had to use it.

Maker help anyone who decided to stay.

The darkspawn would show no mercy.

Hopefully the people here realized that.

IOI

Chanter Devons paid them the gold that they were owed, he had even offered Alistair a new sword as reward.

It was an _oathkeeper,_ one of the ones the Templars used, he had never rated one during his years of training, it felt strange to have one now.

He regarded his old warden sword, it had been damaged fighting the ogre in the Tower of Ishal, still…he found it difficult to part with it.

Duncan had gifted him this sword.

"Tis a blade fool," Morrigan sniffed, "Either trade it away or keep it, we care not. Just hurry."

Alistair glared at the witch, she would not understand sentimentality if it sat on her head.

He took one final look at Duncan's gift; he sighed heavily, and returned to that trader's cart.

HE managed to get five silvers out of the old blade.

It was not much, but Duncan would have been the first to say that their needs took precedence now over sentimentality.

They needed to do what they could to defeat the darkspawn.

That was all that mattered now.

IOI

The group returned to the Qunari's cage, the large warrior barely glanced at them as they approached.

"You wish anything more of me?" he inquired.

"We have the key to your cage," Alim informed him.

That got the large man's attention.

"I did not believe the sisters would part with it."

"They have…agreed to release you into my custody," Alim lied.

"I see," the Qunari said rising, "So be it, release me, and I will follow you against the Blight, and in battle I shall find my atonement."

"Thank you Sten," Alim said unlocking the door, "Glad to have you with us."

The Qunari opened the door and stepped out into the world again.

"And so it is done," he said, "May we proceed…I am anxious to be elsewhere."

Did Sten know that they had stolen the key? Would he have cared if he did?

Alim could not say; he was just grateful to have gained yet another warrior against the darkspawn.

They would need many more before all was said and done.

Alistair handed the Sten the great sword they had salvaged, the Qunari held the large weapon like Alistair held his long sword.

Sten twirled the blade, testing it, evaluating it for use.

Finally the Qunari nodded.

"Adequate," he murmured quietly.

They would have to find him some armor at some point Alim realized, for now he would just have to make do with the sword.

Not that it made Sten any less intimidating of course.

The large man was a threatening presence, even unarmed.

IOI

The group made for the Imperial Highway, leaving Lothering behind. The way was blocked however by a group of armed refugees.

Alim regarded the men; most of them looked like farmers armed with clubs and pitch forks.

The elf sighed; they so did not need this right now.

"We heard what was said," their leader said, "You are a warden."

"And I'm in a hurry," Alim replied, "Please stand aside."

The refugees ignored him.

"I don't know if you killed King Cailan, and Maker forgive me, I don't care. That bounty on your head could fill a lot of hungry bellies."

Alim raised his staff.

"Good people please," Leliana said stepping forward, "this is a mistake. We are trying to help you."

"But you will," the man hissed, "Attack!"

He went to swing his club at Alim, Leliana was faster, her dagger sailed through the air and stuck in the leader's chest. The man fell dead at their feet.

Alistair and Sten attacked, Bandit lunged taking down a man armed with a bow. Morrigan froze one of the refugees solid, shattering the body with a swing of her staff. Alim threw lightning from his fingers while Leliana used her remaining dagger.

The fight was over almost before it had begun.

"Fool," Alim spat, kicking the dead leader's body, "We didn't want this! You did not have to die!"

"It wasn't your fault Warden," Leliana said putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

He looked at like it was some poisonous snake.

"Mind your place sister," he spat, jerking away from her. He hurried on, Bandit as always at his side.

Leliana stood there shocked.

What had she done? She had only wanted to help.

Alistair came up beside her; he offered her back her lost dagger.

"Don't worry about it Leliana," he said compassionately, "It is just Lim being Lim."

She shook her head, why did the elf hate her so?

She had done nothing to deserve such hatred.

Had she?


	11. Campfire Discussion

**Chapter 11: Campfire Discussions**

Alim kept them on the road until just before dark, he had wanted to put some space between them and the darkspawn, but even he had to admit that they were all tired. It had been a hard day for everyone, and with the exception of the Qunari all of the companions were eager to rest.

_The Blight could kiss his ass, tonight they would rest._

Fortune it seemed continued to smile on them in their endeavor, they had encountered no more fools interested in claiming the bounty Loghain had posted, Alim hated to admit it, but he had not wanted to kill those men, but they had forced his hand and it had been done, there was no point on dwelling on that fact now. Plus, they had encountered a dwarven trader as they had left Lothering, the poor man and his son had been under darkspawn attack. They had managed to save the two dwarves, and now they had access to even more supplies than before. Bodahn, the dwarven trader supplied them with tents, bed rolls, food, and water, and even had agreed to accompany them, in exchange for them keeping him and his son safe.

Alim was more than willing to accept that offer.

Saving the traders had also been useful for another reason; it allowed Alim to see how their new companions handled combat with the darkspawn. Morrigan's power and haughtiness were undeniable, but she had managed to slay several hurlocks without breaking a sweat.

Sten had proved to be a monster on the battlefield. He struck down more darkspawn on his own then any of the others, unarmored and only with his sword and his bare hands. To say that Alim was impressed was an understatement. He was grateful that Morrigan had suggested that they bring the Qunari along.

Leliana was…well…the sister needed a bit more seasoning in darkspawn combat.

A genlock had managed to get past Sten and attacked the woman directly. Leliana had panicked; the hideous creature was in her face before she could recover. She snapped off a quick shot, and the genlock took an arrow in the shoulder, but it still managed to tackle the sister and get her down on the ground. She fought valiantly, but the darkspawn had come very close to biting her, snapping and drooling as it tried latch on with its teeth and there by infecting her with their taint.

_If that had happened, then the poor woman would have been as good as __**dead.**_

Alistair had come to her rescue though, bashing it with his shield, knocking the beast off of her, and striking down the darkspawn before it could recover.

Alim checked her over for injuries, but found none; Alistair informed him that she was clear of the darkspawn taint. The Templar had worried a bit when the creature had tackled her. Wardens were after all immune, Leliana was not.

It had gotten far too close; she could have doomed herself with that mistake.

Leliana rose unsteadily, seeing the elf glaring down at her.

She cringed sheepishly.

Alim berated her for it, reminding her that there was no cure for the blight, and had she gotten infected her life would have been over.

The sister nodded, she accepted his fury. She understood that she had screwed up. Marjolaine had trained her to fight, to not show fear or get distracted in the face of a stronger enemy, but a darkspawn was not some city guard, bounty hunter, or knight.

A darkspawn was a monster.

The thing had been so…so horrible; she had not been prepared for how monstrous fighting them would be.

When the elf had finished venting his fury he returned to the dwarves, to make sure they were all right.

Sten gave her a cold look, he did not see her value as a fighter on this journey, Morrigan smirked as she passed, so much for the sister's vaunted fighting skills.

Leliana did not even return the witch's gaze, she felt like a stupid little girl.

Alistair did his best to comfort her, but she still felt like a stupid child.

If she had done that during her training, Marjolaine would have punished her severely.

_You must be stronger my pretty thing, fear is your enemy; this one is just something waiting to be killed._

Leliana straightened her back; she would not show such weakness again, the spawn had surprised her this time.

They would not do so next time.

IOI

"Why are we stopping?"

Alim paused, he regarded Sten incredulously.

"The sun is setting Sten," he said with a tired sigh, motioning to the horizon, "We could all use a rest after the day we have had."

The Qunari frowned.

"There are darkspawn to be fought, is this delay needful?"

"We could all use a hot meal and a good night's sleep," Alim responded, "I'm surprised you would turn down the chance to eat after being locked in that cell for weeks."

Sten considered the elf's words, "Your argument has merit," he admitted, "I shall take the first watch."

With that the Qunari took up a position near the entrance to the small clearing, Alistair and Leliana were already starting to get a fire going. Morrigan assembled her strange tent away from the others, it was more of a lean-to than a tent, but the witch had it up before the others had even had theirs unpacked. The dwarves Bodahn and Sandal spread out their own bedrolls and began digging through their cart for their food stores.

Slowly their small camp took shape.

Alim sighed, taking a seat at the base of a large tree. He pulled off his hat, and slipped off the pack he had gotten at the Bann's estate.

The elven mage frowned; he had yet to look through it, to see what his Mother had left for him.

He needed to do it, even though he feared what he might find there.

Bandit settled down near him, he smiled at the large dog, giving him a good hard scratch behind the ears. The hound looked adoringly on his master, happy to simply be near him.

It had been a long time since anyone had been happy to see him, as a mage most people looked at him like he was a plague.

The pack contained several things, his father's old journal, featuring his tricks for caring for the Bann's hounds, Alim could use that, Bandit could benefit greatly from his Father's knowledge.

There were also several old coal sketches of him and his parents. These made Alim smile, the Bann's daughter had had an artistic streak, she was always sketching the various servants and their families.

He found himself staring at a picture of his eight year old self, the elf smiled slightly, even as a boy his ears had looked ridiculous. The picture brought back memories, not all of them unpleasant.

He wondered what had happened to her, he had not asked after her at the estate after all. Had she still been there? Had the servants given her his warning about the approaching horde?

Alim hoped so.

Beneath the sketches he found his Mother's old flute. She had of course been a music teacher, so it was not surprising to find it here. He regarded the old instrument sadly. He had so many memories of her…playing for him when he was sick or simply could not sleep. She had taught him to play years ago, but he had not touched such an instrument in years.

There had been little time for such frivolities in the circle. The study of magic had consumed his every waking hour.

He doubted if he could even play a single note anymore.

He shoved the flute back into the pack.

The final thing contained within was a letter. He recognized the sloping script as his mother's, it had always shocked the humans when they realized that the Lady Surana knew how to read and write. She had been a house servant in Denerim before marrying Father, and her mistress needed her to be literate to do her job.

Alim gripped the letter tightly, his name written gently by his Mother's hand all those years ago.

No…he could not bring himself to read it, not yet anyway.

He slipped it back into the pack, along with the sketches and the flute. It was…nice to have something from his past.

He found himself watching Alistair and Leliana as they started work on dinner; the cook pot they had purchased from Bodahn was already being filled with ingredients for the stew.

The elf's stomach growled loudly. Maker help him, he had never felt so hungry.

He decided to join Sten on the perimeter keeping watch.

He did not want to be thinking about the past right now.

They needed to stay focused on the present, and he needed to make a decision about their future.

Where they were going next? They needed to fulfill the three treaties; he wanted to do that before he went to the nobles of Ferelden. They would need to see that the wardens had more than just scraps of paper with empty promises. He needed commitment of at least one of the factions who had signed. Something he could throw in that bastard Loghain's face.

Loghain likely thought that this was over, that the throne was his, and that he could end the Blight whenever he wished.

Alim intended to show him that he was wrong.

IOI

Leliana watched as Alim rose and went over near Sten. He caught her glance, and returned with an icy glare, she looked away when the elf turned to face her, her face burned with embarrassment after what had happened earlier.

It seemed that there was nothing that she could do that would please the elf.

She turned to Alistair; the ex-templar was lost in thought, staring into the flames with sadness in his eyes.

She did not know everything that had happened at Ostagar, but she had heard enough to know that the wardens had lost many.

How many of them had been Alistair's friends? Perhaps he had had a girl among them?

Leliana's heart filled with pity.

"Are you alright Alistair?" she inquired.

"Huh," he looked up startled; he had not even realized that she had still been sitting there.

"Are you alright?" she repeated.

"I…um…I'm fine Leliana…just thinking."

If…if you need to talk, I am here."

He smiled slightly at her offer, after the last few weeks of Morrigan's hostility and Alim's indifference; it was nice to have someone else to talk to.

Leliana lifted the lid from the pot; she added a rabbit that she had shot earlier today. She tried to remain focused on her work, but the elf's cold gaze kept haunting her.

She did not see what she had done.

Her brow furrowed.

"Why does he hate me so Alistair?"

"Who?" he asked glancing up at her.

"Alim," she said, "Why does he hate me so? What have I done to offend him?"

Alistair sighed.

"I don't think he hates you," Alistair clarified, "I don't think he trusts you, or anyone from the chantry truth be told."

"But why?" she repeated.

"It may just be an elven thing," Alistair answered, "I knew quite a few elves working in the stables and kennels in Redcliffe. Most of them did not like humans very much. When I was sent to the chantry I really found out what their dislike felt like. I met many that still blame us for the fall of the Dales."

Leliana considered this, her involvement with elves was a bit limited, she had travelled only a short time with Sketch before he had departed, and he had been more worried about being an apostate rather than being elven.

She and Sketch had gotten along okay, but Alim was not like him, not like him at all.

She decided to change the subject, these dark thoughts were not helping, and both she and Alistair could use a bit of cheering up.

"Is your family still in Redcliffe?" she asked, "Is that why you wish to return there?"

"No," Alistair said flatly, "My mother died years ago, and my Father…well…let's just say that he didn't want me. I was…inconvenient."

Leliana cursed under her breath, so much for cheering Alistair up.

"I'm sorry," she said weakly.

"Don't be," Alistair chuckled, "It is an old pain, and I dealt with it years ago. There were much better things for me to become obsessed with besides my parents, like cheese, and my obsession with my hair."

Despite herself, Leliana giggled, she recognized that Alistair was hiding behind humor, but it was not her place to confront him on it.

They all had secrets to hide after all.

"What about you?" he asked, "What was someone like you doing in the Chantry?"

"What is meant by someone like me?" she inquired.

"Well I have never seen a sister fight like you before," he admitted, "Or was that just something that Chantry chooses to hide. If the Templars fail do they send in the sisters, are you the Chantry's secret weapon?"

"I was not born in the Chantry you know," Leliana smiled, "The Chantry provides succor, to all who seek it. I…I found myself in Ferelden and took shelter from a storm in the chantry, and after the storm ended…I…I decided that I did not want to leave. I like to think that the Maker brought me here."

"So you learned to fight from your life before?"

She nodded.

"I was a travelling minstrel in Orlais," she said with a wistful smile, "Tales and songs were my life. I performed, and was awarded with applause and coin. As for my skill in battle…well…I girl picks up things when she travels. The roads of the empire were not the safest in the world."

Alistair nodded; he supposed that made sense, still he found it hard to believe that a minstrel could pick up those kinds of combat skills.

Maybe he was just reading too much into this, Leliana had done nothing but help them since they had met her.

If anything, they owed her the benefit of the doubt.

IOI

Leliana sighed, she did not like where this conversation was going.

Alistair was a polite young man, but if he dug far enough, he would likely discover more than she wanted him to.

She was not yet ready to admit her past…not to anyone.

She had done…horrible things in Marjolaine's employ, but that were not the worst of it.

The worst thing was that she had enjoyed doing those things.

She had loved the violence of the game, reveled in it. There had been nothing better than bringing down her mark, whether physically or mentally. How many had she left dead in the streets of Orlais? How many had she broken, taken everything they had valued and left them with nothing?

She shivered; Dorothea had assured her that redemption was possible, that the Maker would forgive.

But was she truly worthy of forgiveness? After everything she had done, did she deserve anything but the void?

Leliana did not know.

IOI

Alim wandered up to Bodahn's cart, he and his son Sandal were busy getting their little camp set up.

"Good Evening master dwarf," Alim called out.

"Enchantment?" Sandal Feddic asked.

"Not now son," Bodahn smiled, gesturing for his son to continue working while he tended to their new protector. Sandal nodded and returned to work.

"Good evening Master Alim," the dwarf said with a welcoming smile, "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Information…I hope," the elf answered.

"Not much a simple trader could tell you ser," the dwarf shrugged, "Not unless you wish to know about business here on the road."

"Actually it is about one of your customers, or potential customers," the elf replied with a smile, "I was curious if you have ever done any trading with the Dalish elves?"

"Once or twice," Bodahn shrugged, "The elves are more likely to trade with a dwarf than a human after all, I encountered a clan not three weeks ago, setting up their camp near the out skirts of the Brecilian Forrest. Their leader was a bit stand-offish, but so are many such leaders I suppose."

Alim grinned.

"Could you find them again if you needed to?" the elf asked.

"I suppose so," the dwarf said.

"Excellent," Alim replied, "Would you and your son like to join us for dinner Master dwarf, I think we need to talk."

The dwarf grinned, "You are very kind warden, what would you lie to know."

"Everything you can tell me about these Dalish, starting with their leader." Alim replied, "Including his name if you have it."

"Of course warden," Bodahn replied, "I believe the Dalish call their leaders Keepers actually, this one's name… was Zathrian."


	12. The Dalish

**Chapter 12: The Dalish**

"Who are they Mithra?"

The senior hunter watched carefully as the outsiders made their way down the path. It was not the first time that strangers had wandered so close, but she had to admit that this was one of the strangest groups to appear on their borders.

"Mithra?"

"Hush Bellethiel," Mithra regarded her fellow hunter, Mithra was several summers older with blonde hair and silver eyes. Her fellow hunter was dark haired with violet ones. Bellethiel was still very young, she had only just received her vallaslin, her forehead still pink and raw where the blood writing had been cast. Her short dark hair was cropped close to the skull like a boy, but only a blind fool would mistake Bellethiel for a male. The girl had grown from a coltish, gawky da'len into a beautiful elvhen woman. Several of the hunters had expressed a desire to mate with her.

So far Bellethiel had refused them all, she had no interest in being bonded at this time.

She was also extremely curious, she did not understand the dangers that outsiders posed. Of course that knowledge only came with experience.

Mithra intended to see she lived long enough to get it.

Their hunting party moved to surround the outsiders, if it was trouble these people wanted then that is what they would find. The Dalish were not easy pickings to anyone.

Mithra counted three shemlen, along with the giant, the dog, and an elf dressed in strange robes with a pointed hat. It was surprising to see an elf leading this little group, likely some flat ear servant that the shems hoped would distract the Dalish, to keep them from unleashing their arrows.

Foolish shems.

Mithra gave the signal, it was time to close the trap and see just what they had caught here.

IOI

"We're lost aren't we?" Alistair asked.

"Nooo," Alim answered, trying to keep his temper under control, "According to Bodahn the Dalish camp he visited should be just up ahead."

That had been the fourth time Alistair had asked that question. The elf saw Leliana whisper something in Alistair's ear that was good. Hopefully she was warning him to keep his big trap shut.

Alim was not the only one that the former Templar was annoying.

Morrigan shook her head, if the elf was not here, she likely would have cut Alistair's throat in his sleep by now, the suspicious dimwitted fool was always working her last nerve. He had to be the most annoying person she had ever met.

"I've always wondered what a Dalish camp would look like," Leliana said smiling wistfully, "I'm truly grateful that you asked me to join you on this…whatever it is…quest? Adventure?"

Morrigan sighed, perhaps Alistair was the second most annoying person she had met.

Sten brought up the rear, the Qunari seemed distracted, looking over his shoulder and at random trees and rocks as they proceeded. He seemed…agitated.

The large warrior frowned.

"We are surrounded," the Qunari said quietly, "I believe we have found the elves you have been searching for wardens."

"Really," Alistair asked, "How can you tell?"

Dalish hunters sprang from the shadows, their bows trained the wardens and their companions, a lithe elven woman with blonde hair, pinned the human warden with an icy glare. A nocked arrow rested over his heart.

"Never mind," Alistair coughed.

The blonde elf glared up at him.

"Hold it outsiders," she hissed, "The Dalish have camped in this spot, I suggest you leave…now!"

Alim glanced around them; he had to give the Dalish credit. They managed to sneak up on them without alerting either himself or Morrigan.

The elven mage could not help but be impressed.

"Is this any way to greet a fellow elf?" he asked.

The blonde elf snorted.

"Flat-ears are no different from their shemlen masters, we have no inn for you to stay in, nor bread to share. AS I said I suggest you leave."

Alim paused, trying to consider how best to proceed, he had no desire to harm these Dalish, in fact he hoped to win them over to their side, but at the same time he did not like their cold attitude. Humans called him a knife-ear, the Dalish a flat ear, neither slur appealed to him truth be told, but never the less he was trying very hard not to fry the arrogant little woman with lightning.

"We are not your enemies,' he said quietly, admiring a pretty little female with dark hair and violet eyes. His eyes fell over her armor; it left her belly unshielded, but gave him an excellent view of her muscular figure. He gave the woman a polite nod.

Bellethiel smiled shyly.

"You have no reason to be here," the leader spat.

"Actually I do," Alim said, "I am a Grey Warden, and I seek an audience with your leader, your…keeper is it?"

Alim's response drew the Dalish up short.

"A…a Grey warden?" the blonde leader repeated.

Alim nodded.

"How do we know you are telling the truth?"

"People go around claiming to be Grey Wardens do they?" Alim quipped.

"I suppose they don't," the leader admitted, she lowered her bow, but motioned to her fellows to remain ready, "We will bring you to the Keeper, but I advise you to be on your best behavior. Our arrows are still trained on you."

She motioned for them to follow.

IOI

Leliana watched in wonder as the Dalish led them back to their camp. It was…like entering another world.

The scent of wood smoked and jasmine filled the air; she heard the soft bleating of animals, goats perhaps, though she saw none. Dalish land ships ringed the camp; inside women tended children while elders performed the needs of daily life. Preparing food, making weapons, she even saw one old woman tending to linens.

_It was strange thing such a different people doing such ordinary things._

Growing up she had always heard that the Dalish elves were heathens, wild savages that butchered outsiders.

It was clear that those tales were wrong; these people were far from the wild raiders of the tales.

The lead hunter led them to an elf with a bald head and decorated yellow robes.

Their leader she supposed.

He introduced himself as Zathrian, the clan's keeper. Alim spoke to him in respectful tones; it was a new experience for Leliana.

She had started to think that Alim could not be respectful to anyone.

Or perhaps…he was only disrespectful to his allies.

If that were so then she should be happy, Alim must consider her a true companion now.

The Keeper knew about the Blight it seemed, and the treaty his people had signed long ago, but said that there was nothing that he could do to help. He apologized to Alim, saying that given his clans troubles, he did not believe that they would be able to fulfill their obligations to the treaty.

Alim would not accept that, he insisted on seeing what was wrong for himself.

The Keeper nodded, if that is what the wardens wanted, then that is what he would show them. The keeper led them over to the tent where the Dalish tended to their wounded.

The sight made Leliana feel faint.

Dozens of elven men and women lay sick or dying, the sickly smell of fear, sweat, and vomit filled the air. All of the wounded showed signs of being attacked by wild animals; bites and claw marks were all clearly visible on their bare skin.

These were most of the hunters of this clan, Zathrian feared that all would die soon, or be lost to a fate worse than death.

Leliana shuddered, what could possibly be worse than this?

Alim asked the Keeper what had done this.

His answer both shocked and surprised the wardens and their allies.

_Werewolves._

IOI

Zathrian permitted the wardens to make camp just outside their own, considering how nervous the Dalish were around outsiders, Alim could not help but agree. He advised the others to tread lightly around the elves whenever possible.

The hostility here could easily blow up in their faces if they were not careful.

Alim moved quietly through the Dalish camp, with Bandit at his side, speaking with those who would talk to him. The Dalish were understandably nervous around hounds considering their recent problems, but said nothing regarding the dog, Bandit would not leave his side. The hostility earlier had triggered the dog's desire to defend Alim, and he would not shirk that responsibility. Fortunately the Dalish seemed to understand that, and once they realized that Bandit was not a threat, accepted the dog's presence.

Lanaya, the Keeper's apprentice, or First as she was called, had been cordial enough, the clan's storyteller had been downright hostile. Varathorn, the craft master, had been polite; Alim had offered to search for some ironbark for him when they entered the forest.

Werewolves, Alim could still not believe it, he had read accounts of such beasts during his time in the Circle, but had thought their time long over.

Apparently the scholars were wrong.

Zathrian believed that the heart of their leader, this Witherfang, could cure his people. If Alim wished the treaty fulfilled then they would have to see to getting it. Normally the thought of facing such beasts with so few to back him up would have filled the elven mage with dread, but something was here…something that he did not entirely understand.

The forest…it called to him, speaking to the natural magic that he wielded. He felt as if he was being pulled somewhere, drawn…

_He needed to see where this feeling led._

"You have a hound?"

Alim turned, that dark haired huntress stood before him, her violet eyes stared inquisitively at Bandit, her elven ears twitched.

"How can you enslave this poor animal like the shemlen do?" she asked him.

Alim frowned.

"I did not enslave him," the elf snorted, "He chose me."

The girl tilted her head, "I…I don't understand."

Alim smiled, he leaned down and petted Bandit.

"A Mabari is not just some common lap dog; the Tevinter Mages bred them to be intelligent warriors on the battlefield. When one chooses to follow you, it is an honor. Few outside of Ferelden understand that, it is a bond of trust and friendship, not servitude."

The girl's eyes lit up. She thought she understood.

"Like Halla," the elven woman exclaimed.

"Halla?" Alim asked.

She took him by the hand and led him over to the animal pens. He had heard the creatures bleating when they arrived, but had not seen them up close until now.

"I am Bellethiel by the way," she said smiling lightly.

"Alim," he responded.

"Aneth ara Alim," the girl replied, "that means hello in the tongue of the shemlen. The relationship you describe with the hound is similar to that of our halla, a bond of friendship, and not servitude."

Bellethiel led him to a great pen, within large stag like white creatures roamed.

Beautiful creatures, Alim thought with a smile, both the halla and his companion.

"Who comes?" the Dalish tending the Halla called out, she was an older woman with silver colored hair.

"It is only I Elora," the huntress responded.

"Oh…hello Bellethiel," the older Dalish responded, she turned to Alim, "Greetings outsider."

Alim nodded, his eyes were drawn to the creatures, pale fur and majestic antlers. The Halla were like no creature he had seen before.

His eyes fell on a lone female, separated from the rest, he could sense her agitation in her every movement. Every step, every breath radiated fear and trouble.

"Is something wrong with this one?" he asked.

Elora frowned.

"I fear she may have been bitten during the werewolf attack," the herder explained, she touched the creature but it shied from her hand, "The curse would not affect her like it does us, if I cannot treat her, I may have to put her down."

"Elora…that is horrible," Bellethiel gasped.

Elora nodded in agreement.

"I have tried speaking with her, but she is too agitated."

Alim regarded the halla thoughtfully, he could sense the poor creature's emotions, perhaps that would be enough…

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"I don't know," Elora said, "Do you have any skills that could help her?"

He was not sure himself, but he would try, he had to try.

Alim came forward; he reached out with his mind to the near frantic creature. It was similar to what he did when he called upon the elements, the lightning and the rain. The Halla's thoughts were far less chaotic. He touched them easily; he sent waves of the soothing thoughts into the creature's mind. The process was similar to how he fed his anger into a storm, but this…this was something far more… calmer, but more complex.

Elora and Bellethiel watched him, the master herder's eyes widened in surprise.

"You have done it!" she exclaimed, "she is calming down," she turned to the halla placing a hand on its head, "That is it love, be calm, tell me what troubles you."

The Halla reached out to her, showing her its fear.

"Ah I see," Elora said softly, "It was her life mate who was injured not her, and she worries for him deeply. I…I had not realized that another Halla had been injured."

The Master Herder bowed to Alim, expressing her thanks.

"Mas Serranas, thank you, I can now begin to tend to the Halla as is needed."

Alim nodded, it had been strange, he should not have been able to do that, but somehow…it had felt so natural…so right.

Bellethiel was grinning from ear to ear.

"You are a powerful sorcerer indeed Alim," she exclaimed.

""I am simply a mage and a Grey Warden," he said dismissively, "I was grateful to be able to help."

Bellethiel's eyes warmed at his generosity.

The Dalish girl could not take her eyes off of him, Alim was…different, unlike any man she had met before. He fired her curiosity; she wanted to know more about this outsider.

She needed to know more.

IOI

Zathrian watched the flat-ear warden mover through the camp, he wanted the warden gone, outsiders had never brought anything but pain to the clan, and now the flat-ear had brought shemlen into their midst. They would try and find Witherfang, they would fight the werewolves.

Better the shems than his own clan.

Zathrian did not believe they would succeed, but if they did he would need to be there to make sure this played out just so.

He would not allow the flat-ear and his friends to stand in the way of justice.

With luck they would die trying to kill Witherfang, and if by some miracle they succeeded he hoped that they would not escape unbitten.

Flat-ears were no different from their shemlen masters. He had saved Lanaya from the shems years ago, but she had still been a child, uncorrupted by the outsiders' cruelty and savagery.

This Alim was not like that, if he was bitten during the course of this quest, Zathrian would not hesitate; he would give the man a quick death.

It would be the only merciful thing to do.


	13. Day of the Wolves

**Chapter 13: Day of the Wolves**

Leliana watched Alim and Bellethiel from the warden camp. She hated to admit it, but she was a little bit jealous. The Dalish it seemed, had welcomed the elven mage with little resistance.

Sadly the rest of their party was not so lucky.

The elves watched the humans and the Qunari like hawks; Leliana even suspected that Zathrian may have had some of the few hunters he had left surround their little camp.

Leliana sighed heavily, how could they defeat the Blight if no one trusted one another?

_If you cannot achieve trust my pretty thing, then other means will have to be used. All weapons must be considered in achieving your goals, even your sex can be a powerful weapon. Never be afraid to use attraction against your enemies._

Those had all been Marjolaine's words, Leliana suspected that her old master would have approved of Alim's tactics, winning the girl's trust would go a long way to achieving their goals, and, unless Leliana was mistaken, she thought she could see the glimmer of attraction in the elf girl's movements.

Leliana sighed; there had been a time when she had been a hopeless romantic that she had believed that she would find the perfect love, that at her lover's side she would see the world in ways that people only dreamed of.

She had thought that she had found that…right up until she had been betrayed.

Leliana understood what it was like to use someone, to take their heart into her hand and to discard it when she had what she needed, but she now understood what it was like to be used as well, the pain for her was a dagger in the side, both figuratively, and literally.

Was Alim using the elven girl? It was hard to say, they needed to do what was necessary to stop the Blight.

"Out of my way fool!"

"I wasn't in your way; it is not my fault you tripped."

"I did not trip; you stuck out your fool's feet too far!"

Leliana turned to see Alistair and Morrigan bickering again. The dark haired witch and the ex-Templar turned warden did that quite a bit. Leliana suspected that the witch enjoyed tormenting Alistair; perhaps it was a kind of vengeance for his association with the chantry? Maker knew that the witch treated her little better.

Of course…it could also be something else entirely.

Leliana could not help but smile.

It was an interesting tale being woven around her. She went into her pack looking for quill and ink, she wanted to start setting down her thoughts and observations, one day someone might want to know about the group that stopped the Blight.

The journey was by no means over, but she had faith that they would succeed.

The Maker would watch over them in this endeavor.

IOI

"I apologize for Cammen sorcerer."

Alim turned to Bellethiel; it was not her fault that the boy had asked for his help. If anything he understood the boy's reasons better than most. He had lost count of all the stupid things he had done to please girls in the tower. Not that he had benefitted one wit from those mistakes, besides the knowledge that he had been a fool anyway.

Cammen a hunter apprentice was trying to gain a pelt to prove himself to Gheyna, a girl of his tribe. Cammen had almost talked Alim into helping in his quest when Bellethiel finally stepped in. It was not Alim's role to interfere in Cammen's rite of passage. She advised the apprentice to have patience, Gheyna cared for him, and she would wait until he was ready to take his place as a full hunter.

She care too much for him to do less,

"So…will she wait?" Alim asked her.

"Who?" Bellethiel asked.

"That girl Cammen likes, Gheyna, will she wait for him?"

"I don't see her running off with anyone else," the huntress shrugged with a wry smile, we Dalish have old customs and ideals, patience is key. Besides…something's are worth the wait."

Something in the girl's voice made Alim turn, her violet eyes shone in a way he had never seen before. His ears reddened, he pulled his hat down farther.

_She…she could not be attracted to him?_

_Could she?_

IOI

Belle had introduced him to the rest of the clan, helping him find the people necessary to get the clan on his side. The clan's craft master Varathorn needed iron bark from the forest, Alim agreed to get him some. A hunter named Athras had lost his wife to the curse, he feared that she had become a werewolf, Alim offered to look for her when he went searching for Witherfang.

It was busy work sure, but necessary work, the Dalish saw him as an outsider, unworthy of their respect. He needed that if he expected them to honor the treaty, and if he looked good in front of Belle…well…so much the better.

It was strange. They had only just met and he felt like he knew her. That he wasn't just some flat-ear city elf who was too short, with too big ears. She looked at him like he was a man…a man that she wished to get to know better.

It was a new experience for the mage.

Once they had dealt with this Witherfang, he hoped that there would be time to speak privately with the beautiful huntress.

He found himself looking forward to that.

IOI

The next morning the wardens and their companions gathered at the edge of the forest. With luck they would be able to return in a few days with Witherfang's heart.

Zathrian, Lanaya, and the rest of the still healthy clan members saw them off. Alim searched the crowd for Bellethiel, but did not see her.

That saddened him a bit; they had spent most of yesterday talking. He had even invited her to dine with them in the warden camp.

Alistair did not embarrass himself much, and when he did speak out of turn it amused Bellethiel more often than not. The sister was respectful enough he supposed; still he did not like her asking Belle all those annoying questions. Bellethiel was a guest after all, not some oddity to be studied. Sten was silent for the most part, and Morrigan acted like she could care less.

Despite his companions, Alim had enjoyed last night, he hated to admit it, but he found himself wishing that Belle could join them, but Zathrian had been quite clear about that, too many of his people had been effected by this curse…he would risk no more.

Bellethiel had wished them the best of luck, saying that she would pray to Andruil the goddess of the hunt for their success. Alim was grateful for the hunter's help, but it would have been better if she had come to see them off as well.

He had wanted to look into those lovely violet colored eyes again… if only for a moment.

Alim sighed, so another beautiful woman had decided that he was not worth her time…so what else was new.

Steeling himself, he led his companions into the Brecilian Forest.

They needed to find Witherfang; the cursed hunters were not getting any better.

It was time to change that.

IOI

It felt like they had been wandering for hours.

The paths of the forest almost seemed to be changing as they moved across them an endless labyrinth of greens and browns. Alim shuddered…he…he could feel the magic in this place, it did not welcome the wardens and their companions, and it felt like someone was watching them.

"Are we lost?" Sten asked.

"No," Alim replied, "We simply have not found Witherfang yet."

Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"Tis a waste of our time Alim," she snorted, "How do the elves expect us to find one single wolf in this forest?"

"It isn't like there are signs," Alistair quipped, "This way to Witherfang, of cursed demon wolves here."

Alim silenced both with a cold glare, Andraste preserve him, he did not need this right now. Whatever was here was calling to him. He was trying to resist, focusing on the mission at hand, but the pull remained.

Leliana came up beside him, a concerned look on her face.

"Are you okay Alim…you look…"

"I'm fine sister," he snapped, making her step back, "I…I am fine, please keep an eye out, something is not right in this…

That is when they realized that they were surrounded.

Twelve werewolves emerged from the woods; they were ugly beasts to, matted fur, long red jaws, dripping with saliva, and the yellow eyes burning with pain and madness.

The companions stood back to back, weapons at the ready.

A large tan furred creature stepped before the others, his shaggy body was scarred and cover with leaves and twigs from moving through the forest too quickly.

The wolf glared hatefully at Alim, and then he did something that no one would have expected…

He spoke.

"The watch-wolves spoke truly my brothers and sisters," the beast growled, its baleful gaze pinning Alim, "Another of the treacherous Dalish has come to put us in our place, to make us pay for our attack."

The elf said nothing, it was clear that there was more to these werewolves than met the eye.

This would not be as easy as they had hoped.

IOI

Leliana kept her bow ready; the large werewolf spoke back and forth with Alim, neither willing to back down nor to let the other off easily.

The werewolves snarled menacingly, Sten and Alistair brandished their weapons while flame licked at Morrigan's fingers. Bandit stayed close to his master, his eyes never leaving the large werewolf leader, the one who referred to himself as Swiftrunner.

From what she could gather these werewolves hated the Dalish a great deal, Zathrian most of all. As Leliana listened it seemed more and more that this was more than just some territorial dispute between the elves and the werewolves.

For the werewolves this seemed more than personal.

Swiftrunner became angry when Alim mentioned looking for Witherfang. The werewolf practically accused the elf of coming here for the purpose of committing murder.

Alim confronted him, demanding to know what had started this, why did the werewolves hate the Dalish so much.

Swiftrunner was no longer in the mood for talking, with a feral howl, the creature gave the word.

His brethren attacked.

Leliana put an arrow in one of them trying to reach Alim. While Bandit grabbed Swiftrunner's leg, the beast howled and tried to free itself from the Mabari's iron grip. Morrigan set two of the wolves on fire, but a third managed to knock the witch down, it tried to sink its teeth into her throat.

Alistair cracked it with his shield, knocking the creature off of her; he ran it through before it had a chance to recover. Sten flew at the other wolves like a terror, his great sword flashing; the Qunari crushed one of the werewolf's muzzles with a large Qunari fist.

Swiftrunner managed to free himself from Bandit's grip, he lunged at Alim trying to either kill or infect the young warden with the curse.

An arrow struck Swiftrunner in the shoulder, the beast howled in fury.

Leliana looked up in shock, that wasn't one of her arrows!

A lone Dalish hunter bounded out of nowhere. Bellethiel drew her darmisu daggers, she glared at the creature.

Her violet eyes blazed with hate.

"TOUCH HIM AND DIE MONGREL!" the elf woman spat.

Swiftrunner looked around, only a few of his brethren remained, if they did not retreat now, they would all be lost.

The werewolf leader gave the order, like ghosts the surviving werewolves melted back into the forest.

Everything fell silent after that.

IOI

Morrigan glared at Alistair, what did the fool man think he was doing?

"I was trying to save your life," Alistair said hotly.

"I did not need your help!" she retorted, "I had everything under control!"

"I'll remember that next time," Alistair replied, "Next time I will let some beast use you as a chew toy!"

"Tis not the point! I…"

"Enough!" Alim shouted, he moved from companion to companion, checking for bites. They had been lucky this time, he found none.

He finally turned to Bellethiel.

"What are you doing out here? Your keeper forbade any of you from joining us."

"The Keeper has been mad at me before," she informed him, "it is nothing new, and you need my help, you have been wandering in circles for hours."

Alim did not dignify that with an answer. When he did reply it was with a wry smile, the one only Bellethiel had been able to get him to use.

"I hope I'm not turning into Alistair," he informed her, "leading us in circles is his job."

Heeeey!" the other warden complained.

Despite the dangers that they had just faced, Leliana could not help but giggle.

At least now they would not be wandering around aimlessly.

At least now…they had a guide.


	14. The Healer

**Chapter 14: The Healer**

Something had changed.

Aneirin could feel it. He knew of course that the werewolves had struck Zathrian's clan. He had tried to help as he happened by several days ago. Aneirin did not take sides in such things; the elf used his powers to aid all. He had even helped the werewolves from time to time.

He did not take sides, and yet…there was something new in the forest. He could sense the power of it; he could feel it in the wind and in the earth.

He had just been about ready to bed down for the night when the strangers approached him. His hand went to his staff, but left it just as quickly. It seemed that they had need of his skills.

It was an odd group to be sure, several shemlen, a Dalish, a city elf, and a dark skinned giant that Aneirin did not recognize. They had a hound as well, but the beast kept its distance.

The giant carried a wounded elf in his arms.

Aneirin rose from his place by the fire, he would do what he could for the wounded one. If the werewolves had bitten the poor man there would be little he could do. He could ease the pain until the change was complete but that was all.

He hoped the strangers did not expect him to perform a miracle.

IOI

Bellethiel had never been so grateful to see the healer in all her life. It had been a long day; they had tracked the retreating werewolves for what seemed like hours. The beasts and spirits of the forest had tried to block their path, but Alim and his companions had denied them.

_Alim_, Bellethiel sighed, she found her eyes drawn more and more to the sorcerer, and it seemed that he had the strength of the gods themselves in him.

She…she was not used to feeling like this, this desire… to want to be close to someone. She had only just met him, and yet…she felt that she had known him her entire life. There had been men in her clan that had wanted to be, but she had refused them all…Alim…if he asked her…

She did not believe that she would refuse him.

They had come upon a strange fog bank in the center of the forest, the tracks showed that the wolves had passed through it, but the wardens and their allies had been unable to follow. It seemed that the beasts had protected their lair with magic.

Alim had been furious, neither he nor the witch girl had been able to breach the spell with their magic.

As they had searched for a way around the spell, they had come across Deygan. Bellethiel recognized him of course; the hunter had left days ago in a quest to retrieve Witherfang's heart. The hunter was badly wounded; the wolves had clawed him viciously.

She knew that they should try to take him back to the Keeper, but she doubted that Deygan would survive that long. Plus, Zathrian would be furious with her for leaving the clan. The Keeper might decide to cast the outsiders out; they could not afford that, not now.

Besides, she did not want to leave Alim's side.

That is when she had remembered the healer. Aneirin had visited the camp only days ago; he was certainly still in the area.

They were fortunate enough to find his camp.

The Qunari had complained about the delay, but agreed to carry the hunter at Alim's command. Now he gently lay Deygan down near the healer's fire, and Aneirin got to work.

The red headed woman said that the shemlen god must have watched over Deygan. The witch had scoffed at that idea, saying if the man owed his life to anyone it was his own gods, or perhaps Alim.

Bellethiel tended to agree with the witch

Alim and the witch had done what they could for the hunter in the forest, but Alim's healing magic was not the best and Morrigan was no healer at all.

Bellethiel had been grateful for their attempt, but was glad to have found help.

Aneirin offered them the safety of his camp for the night. Deygan was healing, but would not be able to travel until morning. Alim accepted his offer on behalf of the group.

The healer seemed quite knowledgeable about this place.

Alim hoped that the healer would know a way to get through the wolves barrier.

It was a chance at least.

IOI

Once the hunter had been healed, Aneirin had excused himself from the others. He…he found that he preferred solitude over company. The trees and the animals had always brought him a measure of comfort. Being around others was difficult for him now.

The elven mage approached the healer. Aneirin could not help but notice the mark of the circle that young warden wore. Aneirin had been a circle mage himself once, until he had escaped. He had thought he would never meet another after that.

It seems he had been wrong.

"How long were you in the circle?" he asked Alim.

"Too long," Alim snorted, "I was starting to like the smell of lake water. That is never a good sign."

Aneirin chuckled, it seemed that this Alim was not as stuffy as most of the mages in the tower. He thought that was a good thing.

"I escaped when I was fourteen," Aneirin informed him, "I fled to the forests here, looking for the Dalish."

"The Templars did not catch you?"

"Oh they caught me," Aneirin pulled open his robe slightly. Even in the fading light you could still make out the healed sword wound. After all these years, Aneirin could still feel the blade piercing his flesh.

Alim cringed.

"One of the clans found me," the healer sighed, "If they had not…I likely would have bled to death."

"Yet you did not stay with them. Why?"

"I couldn't," Aneirin replied sadly, "the chantry still had my phylactery, if they suspected I was still alive, they would harm whatever clan took me in. I…I could not allow that."

Alim nodded, he could see the other elf's point.

"And what of you," Aneirin asked, "Are you on the run from the circle as well?"

Alim sighed, "No. That…is a very long story. I was conscripted into the Grey Wardens. If I had not been conscripted…I would likely be dead now. The Chantry frowns on people who aid blood mages."

Aneirin's eyebrows went up.

"You…you aided a blood mage? Why?"

"I didn't know he was a blood mage, not at the time," Alim fidgeted, "Jowan…he…he was my friend, perhaps the only one I truly ever had. I…I could not just stand by while the Templars turned him into an emotionless freak."

"He was to be made tranquil then?"

Alim nodded, he did not feel like going into all the gory details. Lily, Jowan, they had needed his help; he knew he was possibly dooming himself, but he could not help it.

You looked out for your friends, even if their taste in women was not the best in the world.

"I had to help him," Alim confessed.

Aneirin nodded, it was a rare thing to find a good friend in the circle. Few mages risked that, if you had something that you cared for, the Templars could use it to leverage you.

He admired Alim's courage, even if the young elf had been wrong.

Alim sat down next to the healer. Aneirin pulled out a pipe, the leaves he smoked reminded Alim a little bit of jasmine. The healer offered it to him, but Alim declined.

Aneirin puffed thoughtfully, it seemed that he was debating something, finally he spoke again.

"In the circle, did…did you know of an enchanter named Wynne?"

Alim nodded, "I heard of her, but never met her. Why? Was she a friend to you?"

"She was an arrogant prideful sow," Aneirin chuckled.

The younger mage grinned.

"So pretty much your standard senior enchanter then," Alim quipped.

That comment made the healer laugh.

"She was my mentor, and I used to be so afraid of her. She would berate me when I did not carry myself in just the right way, or perform a spell to her satisfaction. She was probably the main reason I fled the tower."

"So…some good came out of her then," Alim offered, "I mean…you found your freedom."

"I suppose so," Aneirin sighed, "I have been thinking a lot about her lately, about what I left behind."

"Please don't tell me you're thinking about turning yourself in?" Alim asked.

"Creators no," the healer replied, "But…I…I find myself thinking about what could have been. What might have been?"

Alim said nothing, he understood what it meant to regret.

"I was wondering if you could do something for me," Aneirin asked.

"If it is in my power sure," Alim responded, "provided you help us find a way into the werewolves' lair."

Aneirin frowned.

"I don't know how to enter their lair, but I know something here that might. An old spirit…one who has possessed a great oak tree. I have spoken with him from time to time, he may aid you."

The younger elf frowned.

"Can such a spirit be trusted?" Alim asked.

"He is no enemy, I assure you," Aneirin smiled, "If I tell you where to find him, I must ask a favor," the healer removed a strange amulet from his neck. The amber stone was quite beautiful Alim noticed.

"If you find yourself back amongst the circle, I ask if you give this to Wynne. I want to let her know that I don't blame her. That I am grateful that she gave me the strength to discover who I truly am."

Alim nodded, it was not like they would not be heading to the circle after all. One of the treaties was for there.

Helping a fellow elf was the least that he could do.

Aneirin fell silent once again, and for a moment the two mages sat quietly, listening to the sound of the forest.

"The girl fancies you," Aneirin finally said.

"What girl?" Alim asked.

"The young huntress," Aneirin responded, "she fancies you."

Alim actually blushed, "Oh…well that is good. For a moment I was afraid you were going to say the chantry sister."

The healer snorted, the younger elf amused him.

"You do not like the sister?" Aneirin asked.

"They are trouble," Alim responded, he glared at the spot where Leliana had bedded down for the night, but his eyes quickly wandered to where Bellethiel slept, resting on a mat of grass and leaves.

_Did she truly fancy him? _

IOI

Later that night Alim stood his watch. He…he had not slept well and agreed to take Alistair's place early, Aneirin assured them that they were safe here, but Alim did not trust this place.

He did not like surprises.

The forest sounded peaceful, but Alim's magic told him that it was not. Whatever was calling to him out here was near, he could sense it. It…it felt like a plea, someone crying out hopelessly into the night, begging for help.

Alim was not sure what to think about that.

"You cannot sleep?"

He turned to find Bellethiel standing there. He blinked several times to make sure that he was not dreaming. She…she was a vision in the moonlight, her pale skin shown, her violet eyes flashed in the dim light. The Dalish armor she wore left nothing to the imagination, and Alim had an overactive one.

"No," he responded nervously, he found himself fidgeting and willed himself to stop. He did not want to look like a complete fool around her.

Belle sat down near him, close enough that he could smell her skin. Aneirin's suggestion that she might fancy him came back screaming. He willed his heart to slow but it was no use.

_She truly was a beautiful woman._

"Tell me of your world Alim," she asked softly.

"There is not much to tell," he shrugged, "I was born in the Denerim Alienage, we moved to the village of Lothering when I was still very young. We were servants to a nobleman of that village. When I was eight, I was taken to the Circle of Magi, which is where the Grey Wardens found me, and where they recruited me."

Bellethiel nodded, "What was this…Circle like?"

Alim sighed; it was hard to put the circle into context for someone who had never been there. On one hand, it was a prison; he had been watched by the Templars constantly. On the other hand, it had also been his home, Irving, Jowan; these were the people that came to define his life. He would not be who he was now without them.

"The circle is where all with magical talent are sent," he began, "The human chantry fears us, and so we must be locked away for our protection, and theirs. It…it was not the easiest of places to grow up, but what I learned there…it came to… define who I am."

"Is there anyone waiting for you back there?"

"I don't anyone in the tower misses me," Alim snorted, "I was a major troublemaker there."

The look Bellethiel gave him brought him up short, it was clear that she was not asking him about his fellow mages.

She wanted to know if there was a girl waiting for him.

The air seemed to become more stifling then, Alim was starting to have trouble breathing.

Fortunately for him, Bellethiel changed the subject again.

"Once you have helped my people, where will you go?" she asked him.

"We have several treaties to fulfill," he informed her, "We must gather troops to help stop the Blight. We must find a way to kill the archdemon."

"Will the other wardens help you?"

"I don't think so," Alim sighed, "The rest of our order was murdered at Ostagar. The foreign wardens may try to come but they may be too late to help us."

Bellethiel nodded, so it was just Alim and Alistair against a horde of darkspawn, with these few companions and the treaties at their command.

It was truly great odds that they faced.

"If you would have me sorcerer, I would wish to come with you, when you leave."

"You would leave your clan?" Alim sounded surprised.

"I would protect my clan," she clarified, "We cannot outrun this, no matter what the Keeper says. The darkness will spread, and our home will burn. I…I would not stand by and do nothing. I would fight at your side sorcerer, as a Grey Warden…if you would have me."

Alim did not doubt the girl's skill, but she did not truly understand what she was asking.

"Being a warden is dangerous," he informed her, "I don't know the ritual that would make you one, but I warn you, if you went through it, it might kill you."

"I would gladly give my life to defend my people."

'And there would be none to miss you here?" Alim asked.

Bellethiel lowered her head.

"My parents would miss me, but I would like to think that they would understand why I chose this. Why I chose to go off with you."

The way the girl was looking at him made him nervous, he could practically feel the blood rushing to his ears. The way she said going off with him did not sound entirely like she meant going off to war.

Oh Maker!

Belle had moved so close to him, he was looking right into her eyes, and she into his.

"Will you allow this sorcerer?" she asked, her eyes bright with excitement, "Will you show me…your world?"

He was breathing so hard, she leaned even closer.

Their lips met.

It…it was like nothing that Alim had never felt before, every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire.

The kiss was chaste…at first, but then moved on to something more.

When she pulled away they were both gasping for air.

"Wow," Alim murmured.

Belle smiled warmly at him, her ears twitched with amusement.

"Wow? What is wow? I don't know that word."

"Here," Alim said gently brushing her face with his fingers, "Let me show you."

They kissed again, and again.

IOI

Leliana couldn't sleep. She was trying to be respectful, but that did not mean that she could not hear.

She was happy for Alim and Bellethiel, it was a rare thing to find someone on who you could depend on, that could offer you comfort in the dark hours. She had thought that she had found the same thing once…with Marjolaine.

_That had ended very badly._

Leliana frowned.

_She could still feel Marjolaine's blade buried in her side. She could still feel the brands on her flesh, the lashes on her skin._

Love was risky, it left you vulnerable, and it left you open to be hurt.

Like Marjolaine hurt her.

_We're the same._

She shook her head, trying to push away the memories, but they remained.

She would see Alim spared that pain, but she could not tell him…she…she could not bring herself to warn him. She was not ready to share her past, not with any of her new companions.

They would never understand.

It was strange. When she joined the chantry she thought she was done becoming other people to serve her own ends. It seemed that she was mistaken.

It seemed that she had one last role to play.

She would do what she could to help, but in the end it seemed that she would have to keep her distance. It was like the first of the bards of Orlais said long ago.

A bard told tales of history.

They did not make history.


	15. Trials in the Woods

**Chapter 15: Trials in the Woods**

"Not one word Alistair."

He turned to Morrigan and frowned.

_What did the witch mean by that? _

"I did not say anything," he snorted.

"You were thinking something, tis as clear as the nose on your face," the witch flashed him an acidic smile, "You have so few thoughts after all."

Alistair sighed, Maker what had he done to deserve this?

They had just managed to find the old sylvan that Aneirin had told them about, the creature did know how to breach the barrier that defended the werewolves' sanctuary, but it required their aid before it would tell them.

A thief had stolen one of its acorns, it wanted it back.

_It would be a laughable request coming from anyone but a giant rhyming tree!_

The grand oak had been like nothing Alistair had ever seen before, a spirit possessed tree that not only spoke, but rhymed when it spoke.

Alistair glared at Morrigan, okay maybe he had been thinking about making a poet-tree joke, but that was no reason to snarl at him about it.

Alim chuckled as he led from the front, Bellethiel walked at his side; the two elves seemed to become more and more inseparable as the days had past.

A devilish smile split Alim's features as he paused so that he could whisper to Alistair.

"I think your girlfriend's pissed at you."

Alistair paled his…his…what?!

Shock quickly faded, and color exploded in the young knight's cheeks.

_His girlfriend?_

Alim smirked and Bellethiel giggled, Alistair glared at them both.

"Maker's Breath Lim why do you have to say things like THAT?"

"Because I enjoy watching your face turn red Alistair," the elven mage cackled, "It never ceases to put a smile on my face."

Alistair grumbled to himself, _stupid witch, stupid elf mage._

"You should be nicer to Alistair," Belle said playfully, "He is your clan after all. He may be human but that is not his fault."

Alim snorted with amusement, and the girl giggled again.

The former Templar was not sure how to respond.

"Thanks…I think," Alistair gave the huntress a chagrined smile; he wasn't sure if that was a compliment or if he was being insulted.

Perhaps a bit of both.

IOI

Sten followed silently behind them, his presence was unnerving to Alistair to say the least, useful yes, but also very disturbing.

The man was so quiet for one so big, and when he spoke it was important.

He chose to speak now.

"The sister is gone."

Alim paused, to be honest he had not been paying attention, he had been lost in teasing Alistair, and watching Belle, the way she moved, so graceful. He had not even realized that…

"What?" Alistair spun around, trying to find their missing companion. Leliana could not have just wandered off.

He tried calling out her name, but Belle stopped him. Her violet eyes were cool and stern.

"There are many dangerous things in these woods," the hunter snapped, "You should not give away our location like that Alistair."

He paused, and blushed, he felt stupid, of course she was right.

He shouldn't have been surprised, he was always saying or doing something that made him feel stupid.

You think he would be used to it by now.

IOI

Alim sighed, stupid sister, it would serve her right If they left her to her fate.

_Lucky for her, he wasn't like that._

"If she is gone she is gone," Morrigan said sweetly, "I see no reason that we should hunt for the little twit."

Alim shot her a glare, but it faded quickly, normally he would have agreed with her, but allies of the Grey Wardens were in short supply right now. He could not afford to lose one.

He turned to Bandit, the dog perked up at the mention of his name.

"Can you find the sister boy," he said warmly, scratching the dog's head, "we shouldn't leave her wandering around out here alone."

Bandit raised his head sniffing the air. The Mabari had become infinitely familiar with the scents of those it traveled with now.

Finding the red haired human would not be that hard.

Bandit barked and began to bounce around excitedly.

He had caught her scent.

Alim smiled at the hound, a Mabari never let you down.

"Lead the way boy. We will follow."

IOI

The smell of wood smoke had drawn Leliana away from the others.

She had only been trying to help, when the Grand Oak had mentioned that thief it sought was still camped in the forest, she immediately began to search for any signs of people: broken branches, tracks, anything.

She had smelled the fire while Alim and Alistair had been busy bickering. She followed after it; with luck she could retrieve the acorn and be back before her companions missed her.

It was folly to go off on her own perhaps, but she was still trying to prove herself to the others. She knew what the others thought of her. The foolish sister who believed that she had been given a vision by the Maker, it was not much different than her fellows in the cloister. They too though that she was trying to make her vision seem more important than it was.

She needed to prove herself to the others and to Alim and Alistair especially.

The smell drew her to a fire built in a small glade near a stream. She saw no one else around, but it was clear that someone had been here recently, the bedroll was laid out, the tent set up, and the small fire crackled merrily.

Was this the thief's camp? Leliana was not sure, but she felt certain that whoever had set this up would not leave it unattended for long.

She would have a seat and wait, if this wasn't the thief's camp, then they might at least know where she could start looking.

She had no sooner sat down then she found her eyes being drawn ever more into the fire. The crackling put her at ease; the glowing warmth messaged her skin. This place, built so close to the tiny stream was so idyllic so…pretty.

Her eyes felt heavy, she yawned and stretched. Maker…she felt like she had been walking for days without rest. The bed roll near the fire was so soft…so inviting. She…she would just lie down and wait for the camper to return.

Something in the back of her mind warned her that she was in trouble, that she should get up and leave, but the fire ensnared her eyes and her soul.

She was so weary…so very, very weary.

She lay down on the soft padding and began to nod off.

"GET AWAY FROM HER! I MEAN IT!"

The angry voice shocked her out of her lethargy. The crackled of electricity made the hairs on her neck stand on end. A high pitch squeal rang out above her.

She opened her eyes…and stared into the face of a horror.

The creature was misshapen, a horrible gliding thing with no lips and one baleful eye. It whirled away from the near unconscious bard and hissed evilly.

Bandit lunged, sinking his fangs deep into the creature's arm. It wailed and tried to claw at large dog that had brought it so much pain.

Alistair smited the creature, his Templar abilities draining it of the magic it needed to defend itself.

Alim and Belle struck as one.

His magic turned her arrows into mini lightning bolts; they struck the creature causing power to ripple through the shades shadowy form.

Bandit returned at his master's call just before the elven mage released a jet of orange flame loose on the creature.

The shade spun maddened by the attack.

It was the opening that Bellethiel had waited for; she leapt into the air drawing a beautifully crafted Dalish sword. So distracted was the shade that it didn't even try to defend itself.

The huntress struck at where the creature's neck would be, severing its head.

The world spun crazily, Leliana shut her eyes, trying to steady herself and not get sick.

She opened them to find the camp transformed.

The fire was just ashes, long dead, the tent was just a two posts with a dirty rag ran across them. The bed roll was a damp moldy piece of cloth on the dead ground, and all around her lay the bones of the shade's victims. Some were old, crumbling away to dust; others were still clothed in the remains of armor or leathers.

Bellethiel shuddered recognize the bones of several Dalish scattered here, not from her clan of course, but still quite horrifying.

Alim advanced on Leliana, his dark eyes angry and cold.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" he spat angrily.

"I'm sorry," she said meekly, still trying to clear her head, "I…I was only trying to help."

"Help? You could have been killed. You could have been…"

Leliana embraced the elf, stopping him mid-rant; it took him a moment to realize that she was sobbing.

"You rescued me! Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder, "Praise the Maker for you."

Alim stiffened, he…he did not know how to respond. He had been yelling at her, why was she now hugging him? He…he had no choice…he found himself returning the hug, trying to sooth her.

"It…um…it is…uh… all right. You…you're…um…you're safe now."

Leliana pulled away wiping the tears on her sleeve.

"Bless you Alim," she said smiling, "and thank you for saving my life."

The elf shifted nervously, his ears were as red as roses, he…he was not used to being thanked by anyone, much less a beautiful woman.

_Maker what was he supposed to say now!_

"Yes well…um…just don't make a habit of it!"

He tried to sound angry, but her gratefulness had touched his heart. He had not expected that, not from her, not from any chantry sister. He left before Alistair or Morrigan could start to tease him mercilessly.

Bellethiel walked up to Leliana a wry smile on her face.

The sister immediately felt self-conscious, she knew how Belle felt about Alim and did not want to start a problem.

"I'll have to remember that trick," the Dalish huntress grinned, "If I want to calm him down, all I have to do is hug him. Mas serranas sister."

Leliana shrugged, the Dalish had not responded as she expected.

That was a good thing.

IOI

"Oh dear, oh dear, not a werewolf, and not a spirit even, oh what are these woods coming to?"

Alim glared at the rather strange man. He could only assume they had found the thief that the grand oak was looking for. The man was dressed in dirty brown robes. Dirt, cobwebs and twigs decorated his beard. Eyes both wild and terrified sought out every sound and movement.

Alim might have felt sorry for the poor man if he did not have something that they needed.

"Are you the one with the grand oak's acorn?" he asked.

"Questions, questions, questions," the man sang, "They said it was questions that made me mad, will it do the same to you? Ask a question and you will get a question, but give an answer and you will receive the same."

The mad man grinned.

"Oh how I do love to trade."

Alim rolled his eyes, so much for doing this the easy way; the man was clearly as crazy as a privy rat.

_They just needed to be careful, that was ll._

"What are you blathering about?" Alim asked.

"I don't know?" the man replied, "What are you blathering about?"

"Do you have the acorn or not?"

"What acorn?"

"Are you mocking me?" Alim asked starting to get angry.

"I don't know?" the man shrugged, "are you mocking me?"

Alim rolled his eyes, Maker give me strength!

"This is pointless!" he sighed.

"No!" the mad man cried angrily, "that is not a question! And if it is an answer it is one to a question I have not asked." The man crossed his arms stubbornly. "Have you no sense for the rules."

Part of Alim wanted to shove a lightning bolt down the man's gob, but Morrigan stopped him.

"Be careful warden," she cautioned, "this man may be mad, but he has magic…powerful magic. I can feel it."

Alim shuddered, he could sense it to, if the man wasn't crazed, they might all be in trouble.

"No fair bringing mages to a guessing game!" the man snarled, pulling a twig out of his beard. "Will you play by the rules or not?"

Alim paused…thinking. It was clear that he was not going to get a straight answer here. He would have to be more careful.

"Very well then," he sighed, trying to reign in his already frayed temper, "Would you like to ask me a question?"

"Oh yesss," the man hissed, "Yes I think I might, first question: What is your name?"

Alim's eyes narrowed, that was it? He swore, if this man asked him what his favorite color was next he was going to be pissed.

He realized that he would have to play the man's games if he wanted to move forward.

"My name is Alim," he replied.

"So you claim," the man scoffed, "Are you just some stranger with his head filled with fluff and nothing? I don't think so. **They** sent you didn't **they**? And now you are trying to fool me, but I am on to you…mark my words."

Alim did not know who they were, the Templars probably, that seemed to be the best guess. In the end it did not matter.

The elven warden shrugged _whatever crazy._

"It is your turn now," the man purred, "ask…ask away, I dare you!"

Alim considered what to ask, the logical thing was to ask again if the man had the acorn, but this was far from a logical situation. One wrong question and the man might attack, that would not help them, what if he had stashed the acorn somewhere?

Leliana tapped him gently on the shoulder, the elf turned, he was about to ask why she had done that?

She whispered into his ear. She had an idea that might just help them.

Alim's ears twitched as she explained what she had in mind. A wolf-like grin came to his mouth. He chuckled thoughtfully.

Seriously, this woman was too sneaky for her own good."

"Well," the mad man said impatiently, "I am waiting!"

"My apologies," Alim said with a slight bow, "My question is this: Who are you?"

The man's eyes widened in panic.

"Who am I? Why do you want to know? Did **they **send you? **They** did, didn't **they**?!"

Alim grinned.

"That is a lot of questions ser,' he said innocently, "I hope you have answers."

The mad man's mouth opened and closed, Alim could almost hear the gears grinding in his head.

The man looked like he was ready to pop a blood vessel.

"I…But you…you can't…ARGHH!" the man snarled in frustration, "Damnation! Caught by my own rules!"

Bellethiel and Morrigan did their best not to laugh, Sten seemed bored, but who could tell what the stoic Qunari truly thought. Alistair nodded, he could not help it, he was impressed. Bandit barked happily, his head slipped under the sister's hand to be petted.

Leliana was very smug; she gave Alim a satisfied smile.

The elven mage could not help but return it.

He hated to admitted it, but the sister had a good head on her shoulders.

He gave the mad man his warmest smile, no point in making anymore trouble.

"Let's talk about acorns ser," he said warmly.

IOI

An hour later they found themselves standing before the barrier leading to the werewolves' lair. In one hand, Alim held a branch taken from the grand oak. The old sylvan had been very grateful to get his seed back; he had promised them that this piece of himself would allow them past the barrier.

Alim found himself hoping that the oak was right, they needed the Dalish to aid them or this whole trip would be for nothing.

Alim plunged the branch into the fog; it retreated before the small shaft of wood. Alim walked forward followed closely by his companions. The barrier retreated like water before the small branch. Soon they found themselves on the other side. A massive complex of ruins stood before them. Alim could smell the scent of wet dog in the air. It was likely to this place that the creatures had retreated.

He led them forward, towards the main entrance.

The werewolves were waiting for them, blocking their path.

Alim's eyes narrowed; behind him he could hear the sounds of his companions readying their weapons.

The fun was about to begin.


	16. The Wolf's Lair

**Chapter 16: The Wolfs' Lair**

The werewolves growled in fury at the approaching outsiders, it was all Swiftrunner could do to keep them from attacking right then.

_No, caution was needed now, the Lady needed to be defended._

"The forest has not been vigilant enough," the alpha wolf growled.

"That is what you get for trusting a forest," Alim quipped acidicly.

Swiftrunner snarled.

"You are stronger than we had anticipated, but you do not belong here outsider. LEAVE THIS PLACE!"

"Have Witherfang come out and I will," the elven mage offered.

"We will defend Witherfang with our lives," the wolf growled.

"So be it," Alim said in a low dangerous voice.

The fight was quick; Alim had no intention of wasting any more time here. The Dalish hunters back at the camp were suffering, possibly even turning.

They needed to end this now.

Several wolves fell, one actually surrendered, Alistair had it pinned beneath his blade. Swiftrunner snarled impotently, surrounded by Alim, Sten, Bellethiel, and Bandit.

Alim let the lightning flow into his fingers, one good jolt and Swiftrunner would cease to be a problem.

He never saw the white wolf until it was too late.

Witherfang leapt out at the mage, the shock of seeing it actually pushed him back. The white wolf barked and snarled. It threw back its head and howled a sound so loud that the wardens and their companions had to cover their ears.

Swiftrunner and the surviving werewolves took full advantage of the distraction. They made for the ruins that were their lair, Witherfang bounded after them.

"We have been invaded," Swiftrunner informed the gatekeeper as he passed by.

The other wolf growled, "We fall back then, fall back to the sanctuary, protect the Lady!"

The wolves followed after Swiftrunner. The ruins were dangerous; hopefully they would kill the outsiders. If not the blood of many of their kind would be shed this day.

The Lady would mourn, but her defense was imperative, if she was lost, the werewolves might once again slip into mindlessness.

Swiftrunner would not allow that to happen.

IOI

Alistair held the wolf that had surrendered at sword point, the creature whimpered pathetically. He warned himself not to get overconfident, one bite and he would join these creatures in their curse. He would not go down that road if he could help it.

"Please," the werewolf growled, "I…am not the mindless beast I appear to be."

"You certainly look like one of your kind," Alim said dryly.

"I…I am one of the cursed," the creature growled, "but it was not always so…argh...the pain it burns in my blood!"

"We should end this pathetic wretch's life," Morrigan offered, "Tis a mercy at this point."

"It is not what you think…Witherfang…the Keeper…there is more going on than you know," the werewolf spat.

"What do you know about the Keeper," Bellethiel said hotly, "You attacked us, and you infected us with this foul disease. How dare you claim that we don't know what is going on?"

"I was a victim in that attack da'len," the wolf retorted, "I know more about this disease now than you."

Bellethiel froze, something in the voice, it triggered a memory.

Oh Creators…NO!

"Danyla" the huntress asked.

The wolf nodded.

Bellethiel gasped; no…it could not be…the poor woman!

"So you were one of the Dalish," Alim said grimly, "You…you are Athras's wife."

"You…you know my mate?" the wolf asked.

"Yes," Alim replied.

The wolf whimpered, the agony in her voice was clear, "He…he is a good man, I….I should have died. I don't want him to suffer thinking of me!"

"Danyla no," Bellethiel cried out, "We will kill Witherfang; we can use his heart to save you, save all the clan!"

"It…it is too late for me Da'len," the wolf whimpered, "Please end my pain, end it quickly!"

Alim frowned, he felt pity for the poor woman, but…could he really just strike her down like this. It would be a mercy he knew…but still.

Could he do it? Could he kill this poor woman in front of Belle?

"The poor woman," Leliana said behind them.

"We…we shouldn't let her suffer," Bellethiel murmured, the huntress was almost in tears.

"I…I can do it," Leliana offered.

Alim gave her a surprised look, he never would have expected a sister to step up and offer to…

"Please," the wolf moaned, "End it for me! End it quickly!

Alim nodded, Bellethiel leaned against his shoulder, she understood, but…she could not watch.

Leliana sighed; it was not the first time she had killed. She had tried not to feel anything regarding those deaths, but this…this was different.

This was a mercy.

She whispered a quick prayer to the Maker, asking that he show kindness on this poor woman's soul. She also asked that if the elven gods still listened to their people's prayers, they would show mercy.

Leliana drew her dagger.

The werewolf gave her a look of gratitude.

"Gods bless you," she whimpered.

Leliana slashed the wolf's throat; she let only a weak sigh and fell still.

Leliana stood there, her hand shaking, shame warred with her compassion. Was there really no way to save the poor woman?

She reached down and retrieved a scarf that the werewolf had had wrapped around her wrist. They…they would return it to the poor woman's husband, so that he could hopefully find some closure.

Alim came up to her, she looked shyly at him, he…he seemed confused, it was odd, typically when the elven warden looked at her it was with either disdain or anger.

"Thank you…Leliana," he said quietly.

The sister was surprised, this was the first time the warden had ever used her name.

"We…we should be going," the sister offered, "We still need to find this Witherfang, the Dalish are depending on us.

Alim nodded; yes…they had wasted enough time.

It was time to go and end this.

IOI

The ruins were unlike anything that Alim had ever seen. High arched ceilings with great trees serving as pillars. The place practically hummed with the magic of the fade, the veil was so thin here. A sense of malice still hung over these ruins.

Something very bad had happened here once.

They pursued a group of werewolves down a long stairway, but the creatures managed to slam the door before the wardens could reach it.

The door was effectively barricaded, a shimmering magical shield sprung up before it.

It seemed that the werewolves did not want any visitors.

Alim cursed under his breath.

There were other passage ways here; hopefully one of the m would lead into the wolves' lair.

The journey however was not easy. Spirits roamed free here possessing the skeletons of invaders past. Almost every room seemed to lead to a new battle.

Then…there were the spiders, the creatures were massive, as big as Bandit and twice as wide. They viewed the wardens and their allies as food.

It was up to Alim and the others to correct them.

Still…Alim could not shake the feeling that he was being called, something here was begging for help, it was a stirring in his blood unlike anything he had ever known before.

He followed that call; occasionally the sister had to stop him from triggering one ancient trap or another. Again the woman seemed bound and determined to prove her worth. Alim was not sure why she was trying so hard. She was already part of the group; there was no reason to continue to push herself.

The call led Alim to small chamber in the ruins lower level, once again they were assaulted by undead, and once again they dealt with the creatures.

Alim followed the pulling at his senses. It led to an old skeleton, not reanimated like the others. The bones were still clad in a suit of beautiful green and black armor, iron bark polished and dyed in a way that no other craftsman in Thedas could duplicate. Alim reached down two things caught his attention, the first was a very old phylactery, and the other was a sword.

It was beautiful, a Dalish Dar'missan long sword, runes blazed along the flat part of the blade, the grip was a blend of silverite and iron bark.

Alim picked it up, it fit his hand perfectly, at his touch lightning crackled to life, the blade sparked in the darkness.

He was no swordsman, but even he found it hard to belief that such a weapon had just been forgotten here. It seemed…it felt like it had been waiting for him.

Bellethiel came up behind him, she looked over his shoulder, reading the elvish inscribed on the blade.

"This is spellbinder," she offered.

"It is beautiful,' he said with awe, "I can feel it responding to my magic."

"Once all elvhen had the gift," Bellethiel sighed, "But like so much else…it was lost, our…our people are but a shadow of their former selves Alim."

Alim glanced down at the phylactery, he took it into his hand, it looked like…

The world fell away.

IOI

_The stormbreaker ran._

_The enemy had broken through the gates! His brothers and sisters called down the lightning and the rain on the invaders but it was no use! Too many had fallen, far too many, the invaders had come to kill all who had the gift, they sought to wipe out every stormbreaker in the elvhen kingdom. _

_It would end here! The enemy would wipe them out!_

_No…he would not allow it! He was a stormbreaker, and he was an arcane warrior, he would not die like this._

_The arcane warrior pulled a phylactery from his belt, he needed to survive, someone had to let the rest of their people know what had happened here. That the great enemy had come._

_Someone had to live to tell the tale._

_The stormbreaker began the chant. HE felt everything he was pass into the crystal, his training, his abilities everything. Hopefully one of his fellow stormbreakers would survive the battle, they would return and find him, with luck his people would find the phylactery and restore him to his body. The people needed to know, the enemy had to be stopped!_

_He felt himself path into the crystal, he began the call, only another of his talent would sense it, only another who wielded the lighting and the rain._

_Another stormbreaker would come._

_Years passed, then decades, then centuries, the stormbreaker had gone mad inside the phylactery, and now another had finally come. _

_It had been too long, far too long! His body was dust; all he wanted …all he craved now was a release. He remembered the altar, if the phylactery was placed upon it, he would finally find the peace of oblivion!_

_The stormbreaker that had found him was young; he knew nothing of his powers. The ancient one offered to give him this knowledge, the knowledge of their people. All he asked was for an end; the young one had to let him pass over into the beyond, to be free of the loneliness that had plagued him these many centuries._

_The young one agreed._

_The ancient did as he promised; he let everything that he had been flow into the young stormbreaker's mind. The spells, the meditations, the sword training…everything, the ancient warrior found that he was pleased. The enemy had failed, they had not exterminated the stormbreakers, at least one still lived._

_The ancient took comfort in that._

_He felt the young one rest the phylactery on the altar; he felt the magic shatter the ancient vessel._

_The spirit could not help but feel relief._

_Blissful oblivion…it had been so long awaited! It was a welcome relief._

IOI

Alim gasped. He staggered nearly falling over, he…he had never experienced anything like that before.

Alistair and Bellethiel were at his side, both looked worried.

"Lim are you alright!" Alistair shouted.

The elf nodded, he felt…wow…he understood now.

He was a stormbreaker.

"Emma lath?" Bellethiel asked, "Are you well?"

Wait he understood that! My love, Belle had called him her love! Alim blushed. It seemed that the old one had imparted more than just his skills as an arcane warrior and a stormbreaker.

Alim felt overwhelmed, he…he had always assumed he was some kind of freak! To know that he was more…that he was part of something that had been around when the elves had been at the heights of their power.

He felt…he felt chosen.

"I am fine Alistair," he finally answered, he smiled warmly at Belle, "Someone needed my help; he said glancing back at the shattered phylactery.

"Are you sure you are alright?" the huntress asked.

Alim smiled, he…he never felt better.

He lightly kissed Belle on the lips.

"We need to go," he said, our people still need us."

IOI

The ruin was a maze, the wardens and their allies found many hidden rooms and chambers, undead continued to harass them, along with the spiders, they even came across a small dragon. That had been a tough fight, Alistair had been shocked to see Alim draw the sword he had found, the elf was clearly no swordsman, his movements were clumsy, he lacked the training needed to be lethal with a blade.

Alistair could help with that if Lim let him.

Alim led the way, it almost seemed that he knew where he was going now, whatever was in that phylactery had affected him greatly, according to him there was a pool on the lower level that opened into the area that the werewolves were using for their sanctum.

Alistair hoped that knowledge was all that… thing had given the elf, as a Templar he had been trained not to trust magic. What if the elven spirit within that phylactery was trying to possess his friend?

How would Alistair even begin to counter such a thing?

Alim led them to the pool, it was low enough so everyone could breath as they made their way into the next room. The water came up to Sten's chin, which meant that there was plenty of breathing room for the others. The Qunari did not seem happy about going into the pool but he obeyed.

Everyone seemed pleased when they reached the other side.

Alim had both his weapons out, staff in one hand, sword in the other. He could smell the werewolves down here, that harsh animal smell that all beasts' dens possessed.

They were attacked before they even left the main room.

A group of werewolves had been hiding in the shadows here. Alim and Morrigan met them with fire and lightning while the others met them with arrows and steel.

Werewolf reinforcements arrived.

Alim growled he had had enough of the beasts; he summoned a wind throwing them against the wall hard enough to break bones. The creatures had no choice but to fall back.

Alim grinned fiercely; the power that the ancient stormbreaker had given him was amazing!

"ALIM!"

Leliana's panicked voice caused him to turn; the sister's eyes were wide with panic.

Alim did not understand, they had pushed the beasts back why was…

"Emma…lath?"

Alim's eyes widened, he ran to Leliana's side, Bellethiel lay at her feet, she was clutching a wound in her side, one of the werewolves had viciously scratched her, but that wasn't the worst of it.

The beast had bitten her throat, she coughed weakly, Leliana had bound the wound, but it would not matter, even if the neck wound healed.

Alim felt cold terror in the pit of his stomach.

_**No! He would not have it!**__ They were so close now; they would find Witherfang and rip out his beating heart!_

Alim would not let Belle die, or become one of these things.

He would find Witherfang and Maker help anyone who stood in his way.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know spellbinder was not in the ruin in game, but it works great as a plot device here don't you think. More on Alim's journey soon. See you all soon. **


	17. THe Keeper's Pain

**Chapter 17: The Keeper's Pain**

Alim was in shock; thought that…that may not have been a strong enough word. He was frozen, staring down at Bellethiel, and at the injuries the poor girl had sustained.

How could this have happened? She had been fine only moments ago and now…

"ALIM! WE'VE GOT COMPANY!"

He heard Alistair's voice from somewhere far away, somewhere that he did not care to go. All that mattered was Belle now, perhaps with magic he could…

"Lim wake up," Alistair cried out, "We need you!"

She had needed him, he had been distracted…and…and the wolves had done this to her.

What kind of Grey Warden was he? What kind of man was he?

"Alim…Belle needs you to fight," Leliana's voice cut through the fog, "If YOU DO NOT FIGHT, SHE WILL DIE!"

That did it, the sister's warning brought the elven mage back into the now. He spun drawing spellbinder, and his staff. Werewolves were trying to flood the chamber; Alistair and Sten were holding them back, but…

Alim's eyes flashed with pure unrestrained fury! These flea-bitten mongrels had hurt Belle!

They did not know what pain was…but he would teach them!

He summoned a savage wind; it drove the creatures back, crushing then against tree roots and crumbling stone walls.

It was a start…but not good enough.

He charged them, with Alistair, Bandit, and Sten at his side. The elven mage was a terror, a spinning storm of death. His staff would put one of the injured wolves off balance, making it easy prey for his new sword.

Over and over he attacked them; yelps of pain filled the chamber, when a wolf got too close to one of his companions he will fling lightning from his fingertips. The world became nothing but blood sweat, and fur.

The wolves fell back, unable to face his fury.

He panted, sweating and exhausted, but he was not done! His fury demanded more blood…more wolves to punish.

Demons sang out top him from the fade, offering their aid, offering to make him more powerful.

It was hard to resist, but he managed to pull back, he could not give in, he would not turn into an abomination! The others still needed him.

Belle still needed him.

He returned to the injured huntress, Morrigan was doing what she could, but the throat wound was bad. Alim tried healing magic, but that did not work. The curse fed on it…and Belle's fever climbed.

He stopped…this…this could not be happening.

"We have to get her out of here," He said, "back to the surface."

"Tis unwise," Morrigan informed him, "I believe she would not survive the trip."

Alim almost yelled at the witch, but held his tongue; she was only saying what he was thinking.

"I will stay and guard her," Leliana offered, "You must find Witherfang. If the curse no longer existed you could heal her no?"

Alim nodded, the sister made sense.

"Take care of her," he ordered.

Leliana nodded.

"Bandit stay with her," he told the Mabari, "keep them safe."

The dog barked an affirmative.

"Tis another wolf Alim," Morrigan said coldly.

He growled as he faced this new threat, a lone werewolf creeping out of the shadows from below, it walked with its head bowed and its tail between its legs. Two other wolves accompanied it, they growled at the wardens and their companions.

Lightning crackled from Alim's hands.

"STOP!" the cringing wolf cried out, "Brothersss and ssisterss be at eassse."

The other wolves obeyed, Alim paused, what was this now? Were the beast trying some type of trick?

"I ask you thisss outssssider," the beast hissed, "Are you willing to parlay?"

_Talk? They hurt Belle and __**now**__ they want to __**talk?**_

"Why should I?" Alim growled, his fury now equal any werewolf in this place.

"I have come on behalf of the lady," the werewolf responded, "She believes that you are not informed of everything you should be."

Alistair steeped forward, the way Alim was shaking, and he did not trust that the elf would not simply attack in his rage.

"If you were willing to talk, why wait until now?" the former Templar asked.

"Swiftrunner did not deem it necessary," the wolf replied, "The lady disagrees, we must acquiesce to her wishes. She means you no harm, provided your willingness to parlay in peace is an honest one," the wolf glance passed the two wardens, looking at the wounded elf. "Our Lady could help her, ease her pain, give you time you need to save her."

Alim wanted to shout at the wolf, tell it to mind its own business, but…but if there was even a chance that...this…lady could help Belle?

It was a chance they would have to take.

"I agree," Alim nodded, "Take me to your lady."

The wolf growled, "Follow me…but I warn you…if you break your word and try to harm her…I will come back from the fade itself to see you pay!"

Alim, Alistair, Sten, and Morrigan followed the werewolves. Leaving Leliana and Bandit to watch over the injured dalish, whatever was going on the sister prayed that they hurry.

She feared that Belle did not have much time.

IOI

Leliana wasn't sure how long she sat there waiting for the others to return, but it felt like it had been a while. She was grateful for Bandit's presence, without the dog…with only the badly wounded elf for company…well…this place was starting to make her nervous.

Giant spiders, undead, werewolves, not to mention the various traps they had encountered, no…this place was every ghost story she had ever heard growing up.

She did not like it, not one bit, this was the kind of place that would have given even Marjolaine pause, but all these threats were not her main concern.

Her biggest concern was Belle.

The poor elven girl was dying. Leliana could see that she was running a high fever, but the biggest threat was blood loss. She had changed the bandages on her neck, but the new ones were quickly soaked in blood.

A shiver ran down the sister's spine, if Bellethiel died…what would she tell the others?

What would she tell Alim?

The elven girl moaned; Leliana did her best to comfort her. Bandit whined; the Mabari licked the girl's hand.

Bellethiel's eyes snapped open.

"Alim," she gasped.

"He is not here," Leliana informed her, "he…he went to get you some help."

The girl's violet eyes were wide and cloudy with pain; her breathing was heavy and labored. She grasped the sister's hand, her grip so tight it hurt.

"You…you must…must promise me something human," she panted, "You…you must help….help Alim…he…he will need all the help he can get."

"I will do whatever I can to aid him," Leliana promised, "You have my word."

"Swear," the girl gasped, "Swear on the name of your god!"

"I swear," Leliana said, her eyes stung, she…she could tell the girl did not have much time left.

Bellethiel relaxed, knowing that Alim would have help seemed to sooth her pained mind.

A wistful smile came to the elf's lips.

"I…I would have liked to have seen your world. To…to have seen what was beyond the borders of our forests. I…I would…I would have followed him to the end."

"Don't talk like that," Leliana snapped, "You are going to be all right! Alim will return and…"

The sound of heavy boots interrupted her; she turned to see a most unusual sight.

Sten had returned the qunari was accompanied by two werewolves.

Leliana was concerned, what had happened now?

"I am to bring her to the main chamber," Sten informed her. He reached out and scooped Bellethiel into his arms like she weighed nothing. The elven girl lost consciousness again.

He turned without another word.

Leliana hurried after him, Bandit hot on her heels.

"What has happened?" she asked.

"The warden has made a deal with these creatures," Sten said flatly.

"What deal? What has happened?"

The Qunari did not answer, there was no need.

Leliana cursed under her breath. Why did Sten have to be so stubborn!

The main chamber of the werewolves' lair was quite beautiful. A silent grove surrounded by the crumbling walls of the temple. Many werewolves surrounded them, old, young, some even pups.

The sister shivered, she could not imagine being born into such a curse.

At the top of the dais stood a woman, she was willowy, with deep green skin, dark hair, eyes. Instead of hands and feet, she had tree branches.

The sister regarded her curiously; this had to be the Lady that the wolves had spoken of.

Sten lay Bellethiel at the Lady's feet, with the utmost care, the green woman touched the girl's fore head, blue magic flowed into her.

Leliana almost panicked, Alim had tried that before! It had only made the girl's condition worse!

She tried to move forward, but Sten stopped her.

"We must let the creature help," he informed her.

Surprisingly, it did seem to help, Bellethiel's breathing was less labored, her skin less pale.

The Lady of the Forest rose, she sighed, "This one will not survive the transformation. The outsider will need to hurry."

Leliana shook her head, what in Andraste's name was going on!

A series of angry growls alerted them that the others had returned. Leliana looked up to see Alim, Alistair, and Morrigan striding towards them, Zathrian, the Dalish Keeper at their side.

How had the Keeper gotten here she could not help but wonder?

IOI

Alistair came up and stood beside Leliana, he…he was trying to hold his temper in check, but after their encounter with Zathrian it was hard.

"What has happened?" Leliana asked.

It took Alistair a second, but he realized that Leliana had not been here when they first met the Lady. She did not know what had been said.

"It was him," Alistair spat, "The Keeper created this sickness…this curse. He could have cured it at any time."

Leliana's eyes widened, he could see that she did not understand.

He whispered quietly to her, explaining what the Lady had told them, and what Zathrian had confirmed. A tribe of humans had captured Zathrian's children centuries ago, the boy had been killed and the girl raped and beaten. She had survived, but had killed herself when she discovered that she was with child.

Zathrian had summoned this curse down on the humans, the spirit he summoned as part of the curse, was both the Lady of the Forest and Witherfang the wolf. She infected the humans, turned them into were wolves, as vengeance for the deaths of Zathrian's family.

Leliana could not believe what she was hearing; she remembered seeing all the sick and dying elves back in the Dalish camp. If Zathrian could end their suffering by ending the curse, then why had he not done it?

Alistair remembered his Templar training, a spell cast was bound to the mage that cast it. Zathrian could have ended it, but had chosen not to, he had decided that vengeance was more important than saving his own people

Alistair's eyes returned to Alim, the little elf was furious, he was terrified for Belle and knowing that the Keeper could save her and would not made him want to tear the man's head off.

Belle was one of the man's clan, one of his children!

Why would he not help!

IOI

Zathrian's bearing was cold…arrogant even, he regarded Bellethiel with a look of disgust; to him she was already a wolf, one of the worthless dogs that had attacked his clan.

"You have brought death on this da'len warden," the Keeper spat at Alim.

"You can save her," Alim begged, "Please…end this curse…for her…and your people."

Zathrian almost laughed, "I will not grant these creatures their release, justice must be served, for my son, my daughter, and so many others. Justice is eternal…like my pain."

"Are you certain your pain is the only reason you will not do this?" The lady asked crossing her arms, "Have you told the mortal how you created this? Have you told him what you did?"

Zathrian's eyes narrowed, "I did only what was necessary!"

"Witherfang and I are bound as one being," the Lady said coolly, "But such magic could not be accomplished without help. He needed power beyond what he could summon himself. He used his own blood to bind me into this world."

Zathrian said nothing; he would not deny the truth.

"Your people believe you have discovered the immortality of their ancestors Zathrian, but that is not true. As long as your curse exists, so do you!"

"No!" Zathrian growled, "That is not how it is!"

You bastard!" Alim snarled, "You flat-ear blood mage bastard!"

"Everything I have done is for my people!" Zathrian hissed.

"Bullshit!" Alim spat, "You are doing this because you don't want to die. You are willing to let your clan suffer, to let Belle suffer just to save your own ass!"

"She was dead the moment she left my protection!" Zathrian roared, "I can save those not yet cursed! Bring me the spirit's heart Grey Warden and I can do it!"

"HE WILL NOT HELP!" Swiftrunner howled in fury, "We must kill him! WE MUST KILL THEM ALL!"

"See," Zathrian said triumphantly, "they turn on you just as quickly, they are savages, worthless dogs! Do what you came here to do Grey Warden or get out of my way!"

Alim's eyes glowed red, fury flowed off him like water.

"You will save Belle now," he said coldly, "You will end the curse, even if I have to force you to!"

"We're standing up for what is right here!" Alistair said coming to Alim's side.

"THEN YOU SHALL ALL DIE WITH THEM!" Zathrian laughed madly, "All of you shall get what you deserve!"

The keeper dug his nails into the palm of his hand, blood flowed, he directed it with the oldest of Elvhen magic, let it flow into the trees.

The sylvan awakened, they would kill the wolves, they would kill the wardens, he would seize the Lady's heart himself.

He would have justice!

IOI

Morrigan summoned her most powerful spells down on the Keeper's demon possessed trees.

Keeper? Morrigan laughed at that now, Zathrian had not been a Keeper for many years, he was a sorcerer, a blood mage playing at the role, and he lied to himself when he said that his people meant a whit to him. Alim would do the man's clan and the world a favor simply by killing him.

All that mattered was his precious vengeance.

Alim flew at Zathrian, magic and steel clashed loudly. Alim whirled using his staff and sword to equal effect.

Morrigan cast a minor enchantment: Sten, Alistair, and Leliana's weapons blazed with fire that would make things a little fairer in dealing with these demonic trees.

She was surprised to see that even Alim's dog had been effected, the Mabari blazed with magical flame.

Morrigan chuckled, would wonders ever cease.

One of the sylvan scooped up Alistair; he slashed viciously at its arm. All the creature had to do was tighten its grip.

Morrigan would not allow that, Alistair had saved her life before; honor demanded that she return the favor.

She summoned cold, freezing the branch that held him. Alistair snapped it easily, He landed on his feet. Sten pushed the damaged sylvan back, giving the former Templar room to breathe.

He looked at Morrigan.

"Focus on the fight fool," She spat, "Tis not my job to save your worthless life."

He nodded thanks, not that she wanted or expected him to.

IOI

Leliana threw a fire flask into the one of the Sylvan's face's; at least she thought it was the creature's face. It shook maddened with pain.

She fired flaming arrow after flaming arrow at the creatures, but always she never left Bellethiel's side. She would guard the elf with her life.

She had promised Alim she would protect the girl and she had meant it.

There had been a time when her word had meant nothing. It was a ruse, just a trick to get the things that she and Marjolaine had wanted. It had not worth and no meaning.

She intended to change that.

And with the Maker's blessing she would!

IOI

Alim had given himself to the storm.

It had been such a long time, so very long since he had done anything like this…years…centuries.

No, he thought, that had not been him that had been the stormbreaker, his memories were now a part of Alim, the mage tried to focus, to keep himself at the forefront.

He would need to if he wanted to defeat this mad flat-ear!

"I AM A KEEPER!" Zathrian shouted, "I will have justice! You will all suffer!"

Alim called on the wind, he asked it to blow, and he asked it to take the rain, to chill it, to make it cold to make it hard.

The wind blew down into the chamber, it carried hail and sleet.

The winds missed Alim's companions.

They only had one target today.

They battered Zathrian viciously.

The Keeper's eyes widened.

"Impossible," he shrieked, "no mage can do this!"

"A stormbreaker can," Alim growled renewing his attacks.

"THE STORMBREAKERS ARE EXTINCT!"

Zathrian swung his staff, he had intended to crush Alim's skull.

The elf dodged and spun. Spellbinder flashed, the blade bit deep into Zathrian's wrist.

The Keeper's hand exploded, he fell… wailing.

Alim did not let him fall he sheathed his sword, and dropped his staff. He kneed the Keeper in the stomach, his fist struck Zathrian in the face, he struck again.

"The Stormbreakers live again in me," Alim snarled as struck the Keeper again and again, "The defenders of the elvhen have returned, and their rage is directed against you flat-ear! May the creators have mercy on you, for I…certainly will not!"

Alim kicked Zathrian, the elf tumbled to the ground, wounded, and sobbing, holding the stump of his ruined hand.

Alim drew his sword.

Swiftrunner was there, he growled with excitement.

"No…no more," Zathrian whimpered, "I…I cannot defeat you."

"Finish it," Swiftrunner hissed, "kill him now!"

Zathrian's eyes widened in fear.

"NO!" Leliana cried out, "Alim stop! Lady please stop him."

Alim paused, he was furious and out of breath, magic sang in his veins, but he still remembered where his priorities lay.

Zathrian could not die yet.

He needed to end the curse.

The Lady of the Forest held the wolves back.

"How can we expect him to grant us mercy, if we show him none," the Lady said.

"I cannot," Zathrian gasped, "I…I am too old…to know mercy."

"Has this not gone on long enough?" Alim spat, "Are you so afraid of death that you would see your people die?"

Zathrian looked upon Bellethiel, her chest rising and falling in hard gasps. He found himself, remembering another elvhen girl. He found himself remembering his daughter, remembering finding her will her darmisu plunged into her own heart.

Tears fell from the Keeper's eyes. He turned to the Lady of the Forest.

"What of you spirit?" he asked, "You are bound to the curse as much as I. Do you not fear your end?"

The Lady gave him a sad smile.

"You are my maker Zathrian, you gave me form and consciousness, where none existed. I have known pain and love, all the joys of life, but now…now all I desire…is an end." The spirit fell to her knees, she wiped away the old keeper's tears, "I beg you maker, father, please put an end to me. Show mercy."

Zathrian felt his heart break, to see this spirit, this creature to have come so far, too be more of a person than he. It made him realize the truth, it…it was time.

Zathrian nodded.

"You will do it?" the Lady asked, "You…you will end the curse?"

"Yess," Zathrian rose, a tired smile on his lips, he held his staff in his remaining hand, the stump of the lost one cradled to his breast. "Let…let us bring an end to it all."

He gave the Lady one final look, she nodded an affirmative, it was time.

Zathrian whispered the words, the words that would unbind her, he brought down his staff on the stone, finishing the spell.

Life left him in a rush, Zathrian sank to the ground, as the light faded from his eyes, he saw his children waiting for him, all the friends he had lost long ago welcoming him.

Zathrian smiled.

He had missed them.

IOI

As Zathrian died, the lady of the forest vanished, she disappeared in a column of blinding light. Where the light had fallen, the werewolves changed, they shrunk their figures becoming less wolfish.

When the light faded, all that remained was a room full of humans and Dalish, the rags of their old clothes clinging to their restored bodies.

The curse was now over.

IOI

Alim ran to Bellethiel, he let healing magic flow, there was still time…he could still.

"Belle, Belle wake up…we did it!" Alim cried, "We saved your people. They are safe Belle!"

Bellethiel opened her violet eyes, she smiled weakly, her fingers brushed Alim's face.

"I…I knew you could do it emma lath," she said happily, "I…I…knew that we could…"

Her eyes seemed to focus on something far away, her smile became more triumphant. She could see them…they had not abandoned her.

The gods of her people had come…they…they were welcoming her home."

IOI

Bellethiel's fingers fell from Alim's face, the light faded from her eyes.

Alim called her name, he cried it through scared and angry tears, but Bellethiel was beyond hearing him.

The Dalish had wanted so many things. She had wanted to see the world, to travel beyond the borders of her clan. To travel, to fight, and love at the side of Alim and his companions.

She had wanted to be a Grey Warden.

Yet that was not her destiny, her destiny was to end here, to leave the world trying to save her people.

So she died in the arms of the man she had only just started to love.

As the Creators' had willed, so would it be done.


	18. Grieve

**Chapter 18: Grieve**

The wardens returned several days later to the Dalish camp, it had taken that long for the elves that had been turned into werewolves to recover. Their families were grateful for their return. There were many tears happy reunions.

_And some not so happy._

Alistair spoke with Lanaya, Zathrian's First; with the curse ended she saw no reason not to honor the treaty the Dalish had signed with the Grey Wardens so long ago. It would take time she informed him, to contact the other clans and have them come to stand with their warden allies, but they would make a difference in the coming war.

Alistair nodded, he could understand that.

The new Keeper was surprised by the news that their returned brothers and sisters brought back, not only was the elven sorcerer that helped save their people a Grey Warden, but he was a Stormbreaker as well. Lanaya had read the old writings; she knew that there had been a time when the Stormbreakers had served all of Elvhendom.

Before they had been exterminated long ago.

Lanaya asked after Alim, she wished to know more about him, but he chose to keep to himself. He had no patience to talk of histories, treaties, and politics. Only one thing had mattered to him these last few days, and he was determined to see it through.

He needed to return Bellethiel to her people.

Sten had been kind enough to carry the girl's body. After what they had been through, after what they had shared, and what they had not, he could not just leave her body to rot in that horrible temple.

Alim had found some fine pale cloth in the former werewolves' lair. It served well enough for a burial shroud. He wrapped the fallen huntress carefully, pausing once to look upon her delicate features one last time.

"Good bye," he whispered, "I am so very sorry."

He gave her lips one final kiss before wrapping her face. From the memories he now shared with the Stormbreaker he knew that it was proper to return the girl to the soil, but not here.

Not when he could see her returned to the clan that loved her.

Presenting her body to her parents had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. Belle's Mother had struck him; she blamed him for her daughter's death. If she had not followed them into the wilderness…she would still be alive!

Alim did not respond; the woman did not need to say anything for him to know this was all his fault.

Her Father was a bit more diplomatic; he thanked the wardens for returning his fallen child to the clan. Alim told him of his daughter's bravery, how she had fallen trying to save their people.

The older elf nodded, he clearly missed his little girl, but understood the value of sacrifice.

A funeral was held for Bellethiel and the others who had fallen. The elves sang the old songs as they committed Bellethiel's body to the soil.

Alim could only watch, his fists clenched impotently, misery had turned to anger, anger at himself, at Zathrian, and the Dalish in general. It had been their isolation that had brought them to this. Zathrian's desire to punish the outsiders who had hurt his family. They had saved the Dalish from the curse, but had they done anything truly right. The Dalish still viewed humans as their enemies, even though one of their own had nearly doomed them.

Zathrian's desire for revenge had killed so many, it had killed Belle!

The fact that the old bastard was dead was little comfort for Alim. The elves had been saved, but at what cost?

He knew that he should consider this a victory that they had succeeded in gaining support for their first treaty. Sadly, all he could feel was loss.

If only she had stayed here. If only she had not been curious about him. If only he had seen the wolf who had bitten her. If only…

If only.

The morning after the funeral Alim led the others out of the Dalish camp. He was not sure where they were going, and did not feel like answering stupid questions right now.

He could not close his eyes without seeing her face, without seeing accusations so clear in her lovely violet eyes.

He could no longer remain here.

He needed to get away before he said something he would regret.

He needed to get away…from everything.

IOI

"Why are we stopping?"

Alim turned to Sten, cold anger simmering in his eyes, "We are stopping because we need to Sten."

"There are darkspawn to be fought, is this delay needful?"

Alim glared at the Qunari, he sooo did not need this right now.

"I need to think, and if you don't mind I do that better after I have rested," he turned to the others. They had picked up Bodahn and Sandal on the outskirts of the Forest. The dwarves had gathered new supplies during their brief stop, not that Alim had an eye for such things right now.

A cold wind blew across the land, Alim shivered, it was not winter yet, but it was coming. Alim was not sure where they would go when the snow finally flew, but right now, all he cared about was getting away from the others.

Thunder rumbled in the sky overhead, nature responding to his foul mood.

"Parshaara," the Qunari said shaking his head.

Alim ignored him.

"Oy you lot," he called back to the others, "there is a clearing up ahead; we'll make camp for the night."

The others nodded, and went about the business of settling in for the night.

Alistair came up to Alim; they needed to decide where they were going next.

"Not now Alistair," Alim snapped.

"I wasn't going to say anything," the former Templar said defensively, "I was just going to ask you how you felt about going back to the circle tower."

"We're not going there, at least not yet."

"But it is on the way, we could…"

Alim spun.

"I SAID WE ARE NOT BLOODY GOING THERE YET! IS THAT CLEAR?!"

Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning danced across the sky.

"Yes," Alistair said meekly, really wishing that he was not wearing a metal suit right now.

Alim held his gaze for a full ten seconds before stalking off alone. Bandit followed after him, the dog whimpered nervously, the dog was clearly worried about its master.

Alistair shook his head,

He knew how the dog felt.

He was worried about Alim too.

Leliana came up to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he sighed, "I think I just escaped being fried by a lightning bolt, but I'm fine."

"Alim would not do that."

"Would he? I'm not so sure?"

Leliana stared at the retreating elf's back.

"Give him time," Alistair advised her, "He needs to work through this."

The sister nodded, she did not like it, but she had to trust Alistair on this.

She would wait at least for now.

IOI

As the sun set and night fell over the camp, a cool mist rolled in, everything was damp and miserable, only Sten seemed unaffected, Alistair retreated to his tent, while Morrigan kept to her little camp off to the side of the others. Without any warning, Leliana emerged from her tent, she made straight for where Alim stood watch.

She could not take it anymore.

She understood the need to grieve, and she understood that Belle had meant something to Alim. But she also understood that they could not move forward when their leader was wallowing in self-pity.

Alim was probably the strongest elf she had ever met, but even the strongest blade could break if pressure was applied in the wrong place.

Alistair had not been able to help Alim, neither had Sten, Morrigan…well to be honest Morrigan likely did not care that Alim was in pain.

That left her, the one person in the group that Alim really did not like.

She shook her head; the Maker truly had a strange sense of humor.

She had waited until it was Alim's turn on watch, when he was alone, Sten had just left, returning to his tent to sleep or whatever the Quanri did during his late night hours. She found the elf with Bandit dozing at his feet.

_Now was the time, now was her chance._

She did not care what it took; Alim was going to talk to her.

Whether he liked it or not!

IOI

He stared quietly out into the darkness; the anger that had settled over his heart squeezed his chest like a vice.

Only Bandit was not avoiding him, Alim was happy with that.

The dogs back home had been his first friends. They did not judge, they did not question…and they did not blame you when someone died.

He heard her approaching even before Bandit did, the shifting of the arrows in her quiver, the sound of her leathers as she moved.

The soft smell of perfume on the wind.

"Alim," she said softly.

Lovely, he thought, the sister is trying to save my soul!

"Yes sister," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"I would like to speak with you if I may."

He turned his icy glare upon her.

She did not even flinch.

"I don't need to confess my sins sister," he spat, "So you might as well return to your tent."

"I'm not here as a sister," she informed him, "I am here as a traveling companion, and as a friend."

"A friend?" he snorted, "I wasn't aware that we were friends sister. And while we are on the subject, why do you think I need a friend right now?"

"Because Bellethiel is dead," she said flatly.

Her bluntness shocked him.

She knew it would hurt, but he needed this.

"I know you cared for her," she continued, "And she cared for you. Did you love her? I do not know. What I do know is that you are suffering, and taking it out on the rest of us, it won't help. What happened to her…it…it was not your fault."

"She would not have been there if it wasn't for me!"

"She wanted to help her people, and she wanted to see the world beyond her clan. We were both there when she died Alim. She did not blame you, she was grateful, you had freed her people, you had saved the werewolves. You even freed Zathrian from his hatred…"

"I DID NOT WANT THAT BASTARD FREED!" Alim snarled.

Bandit sat up, startled out of a sound sleep.

Alim's hands were clenched into angry fists, his ears twitched wildly. Zathrian's face danced before his eyes.

_**That hypocritical flat-ear bastard!**_

"He deserved the void for what he had done," Alim continued, "How many died in agony because of him, not just Belle but countless others who fell prey to his curse. People who were just passing through the forest, people that had nothing to do with the death of his children, they did not deserve that fate any more than Belle's clan did. If I could have saved the werewolves by letting him be ripped apart I would have!"

Leliana said nothing; she knew when to speak and when to listen.

This…was a time to listen.

Alim needed to get this off his chest; it was the only way that he could move forward.

But it isn't just Zathrian; it is all of them, the Dalish as a people. They cling to old grudges like a miser holds on to his last coin! We were wronged, I understand that, but when we justify that hatred, when we say it is simply a…result of what had been done to them in the past. The Dalish are not trying to move our people forward, they are trying to hold us back, to reclaim glory that we will never regain."

Alim's eyes were shining, he was fighting back tears. He refused to cry in front of the sister, he would not!

"I spoke with that Dalish storyteller right before we left. Do you know what he asked me? He wanted to know the honorable circumstances of Zathrian's death; he wanted to know the story of how their mighty keeper died heroically to end the curse. He said that Zathrian's tale would be an inspiration for Dalish children for centuries to come!"

Alim's voice cracked, he tried to hang on. **He…he would not cry!**

"Belle deserved **better**, she deserved **more**. I doubt her name will even be mentioned in Zathrian's tale. She went with us to help her people. She was legitimately trying to save them! Zathrian only came to that temple to ensure the safety of his curse, and to feed his own hate and pride. Belle was worth fifty of him, she was…she was…"

Tears flowed from Alim's eyes, he wiped at them, but to no avail.

Leliana watched him, part of her wanted to take him into her arms, but she knew better.

Alim would not accept her comfort.

"I killed her and the world…" the warden mage sniffled, he…he could barely say the next few words, "The world will never know how great she was. She chose to defend her people. I am only here because it was better than dying, or being made tranquil. I'm no better than Zathrian! I'm….**I'm a bloody coward."**

Leliana pursed her lips, what could she say? The elf was clearly in pain, but would he accept any comfort she offered him?

"She deserved better," Alim spat, angry at himself for crying like a child in front of a chantry sister.

"So do you," she said calmly.

He turned to her, a confused look on his face.

Her face was grim, her bearing cold.

"You did something good back there. You ended a threat that has plagued the Brecilian forest for centuries, no more will suffer because of that curse. And you brought the Dalish over to our side; they will stand with us against the Blight. We have a chance now."

"It isn't enough;" Alim said glumly, "The Dalish alone cannot defeat the darkspawn."

"Then you shall convince the mages and the dwarves to aid us as well. It is not impossible. You proved that. The Dalish will stand with the Grey Wardens, and you will convince the others to stand with us as well. I would do anything to stop the Blight. I know we can do it. I believe in you, just as Bellethiel believed in you."

Alim could not hold her intense gaze, what she said, it shamed him. He had every right to mourn sure, but what about everyone else. The darkspawn would not stop, they would destroy everything in their path, humans, dwarves, elves, everyone.

Belle's people were not out of danger yet.

He owed it to her to continue on.

_I believe in you, just as Bellethiel believed in you._

The pain was still there, it throbbed in his chest, but there was something else there now to. Maybe he had to say the words; maybe he just had to tell someone. Now that he had, he felt…it felt like his brain was working again.

He still saw Belle in his mind, but now she no longer stared at him with that accusing glare, her face was inquisitive…

_What do we do next sorcerer?_

He thought about that, the circle tower was closer, but he still wasn't sure how the Templars would react. He wanted to know where the chantry stood on this business with Loghain before seeking the circle out. Redcliffe was still too risky. If Arl Eamon was the threat that Alistair claimed then Loghain would be watching him.

That left only one place to go, the next treaty.

The dwarves of Orzammar.

They would need to be careful, move cross country. Maybe mix with the refugees fleeing north where they could. Loghain likely knew that some wardens had survived by now. They needed to move carefully.

He realized that Leliana was still watching him, her eyes concerned.

He did not understand why she had come to him tonight. He did not buy the friend and traveling companion thing, she still belonged to the chantry, and they understood nothing of love or loyalty.

But she had helped him, he had not wanted her to but she had.

He owed her something for that.

She turned to leave thinking she had failed.

"Sister," he said quietly.

She stopped and turned.

"Be ready, we start out for Orzammar tomorrow, if you could pass that along to the others, I would be grateful."

"Of course warden," she said curtly, once again she turned.

"And one last thing," he added.

She paused.

He took a deep breath, this was not easy.

"Thank you," he whispered, "Thank you for reminding me what Belle wanted, what she wanted to be a part of. I…just…just…thanks…Leliana."

This was likely the second time he had actually said her name. She could not help but feel this was a kind of progress, that they were forming some kind of rapport.

She was not sure what his grudge was with the chantry, but maybe…maybe he could look past it, and let her help.

As she left Alim seemed to stand a little bit taller, he adjusted his hat and smoothed out his cloak and robes. Spellbinder was still sheathed at his waist.

He had not move forward, not just for himself but for Belle, Duncan, and the rest of Thedas.

He would not let all those deaths be in vain, he would not let Belle's death be in vain.

He would continue on. They would continue on.

There was still much to be done.

NEXT CHAPTER: ZEVRAN!


	19. The Crow and the Soldier

**Chapter 19: The Crow and the Soldier**

"Orzammar huh?"

Alim did not reply, he did not like repeating himself. He had explained to Alistair his reasons for seeking out the dwarves next. From what he remembered from his readings in the tower, the dwarves were experts at killing darkspawn, among them they would likely find the staunches allies for their treaties.

Leliana's words from the other night came back to him. They could do this, they should not have been able to get the Dalish on their side but they had. If they avoided Loghain's men, slipped past the horde again, and stuck together, they had a chance.

Provided that Alistair did not make him strangle him in the meantime.

They were currently walking with a group of refugees. Most of them were chasind, but a few of them were farmers from the southern bannorn hoping to escape to Highever or Amaranthine. The chasind were understandably nervous around Morrigan, but their fears of the Witches of the Wilds kept them from doing anything stupid.

Travelling among the Chasind, surprisingly enough, was a Ferelden Knight.

The man was broad shouldered, and his heavy chainmail showed evidence of battle damage. The knight refused to give his name, saying that he was just a soldier who had been separated from his unit.

He had apparently been aiding the Chasind since they had found him wounded and unconscious in the wilds. Despite the man's successes against the monsters he seemed broken, and it only seemed to get worse when the man had heard Bodahn talking about the rioting and destruction currently taking place in Highever.

Apparently the entire Cousland family had been wiped out, down to the last child. Teyrn Loghain had made a statement declaring that Bryce Cousland and his wife had been selling military secrets to the Orlesians. That Arl Rendon Howe, and loyalist of Ferelden had discovered the treason and executed them.

The man looked ten times worse after hearing that, Alim wasn't surprised, the Couslands had always been good to their soldiers.

The poor man's eyes were haunted, he looked as if he had looked into the void, and it now looked back through him. He had said barely ten words to the wardens and their party. All he would say is that he was Highever, and that he needed to return to his family.

Alim offered to let him join them, but the man declined, as he had said he needed to return to Highever, his family needed him.

Alim was forced to submit to his wishes.

"You could invoke the right of conscription you know," Alistair reminded him.

Alim shook his head, he would not do that, you only had to look into the man's eyes to see that he had had enough of war.

That of course had led to the current Orzammar discussion.

"We could use the dwarves help," Alim reminded him, "plus, the chantry buys all its lyrium from the dwarves. If we have their support then the Circle will have no choice but to aid us."

"Makes sense," Alistair shrugged.

The tone in his voice made Alim pause.

"What?" the elf asked.

"Oh nothing," the former Templar shrugged, "it is just nice to see you back to your old self. After the whole Dalish thing I mean."

Alim snorted, he had actually gone ten minutes without thinking about Belle's death.

_Thanks Alistair._

"What is done is done," Alim sighed.

"I'm just happy that I escaped without you frying me with a lightning bolt." Alistair shrugged.

"Don't worry," Alim said with a slight smile, "the day is still young, I might just find some reason to fry you yet."

"Thank you ever so much Lim," Alistair chuckled.

"You're quite welcome Ali," the elf snickered.

It was strange, Alim had actually come to like Alistair's presence, the man may not have been able to be serious about anything for ten minutes, but at least he had a talent for lightening the mood.

Plus, he was a great target for teasing that always put a smile on Alim's face.

He decided to indulge himself.

"So…how are things going between you and Morrigan," the elf asked,

Alistair did a double take, "My…my…what?"

"All things considered, I'm surprised she hasn't invited you to her tent yet," Alim smirked, "Taught you a whole different kind of magic?"

Alistair turned three shades of scarlet.

"Makers breath, why do you have to say such things Lim," Alistair groused.

"Because you are such an easy target Ali," he laughed.

Alistair glanced behind them, Morrigan was following near Bodahn, she was currently negotiating for a silver necklace he had in his possession.

The Witch glared at Alistair, who turned back nervously.

Alim chuckled, Alistair was just far too easy to fluster. He almost felt sorry for the former Templar…

Almost.

IOI

Leliana was troubled.

It was not the typical kind of troubled, the one that sprung from a battle injury or an empty stomach. No, this form of troubled was in a way that she did not truly understand.

She…she had had another vision the last two nights.

She knew the others did not believe her, so she said nothing, but…it had been so real, far more real than the one she had had about the blight.

It…it seemed like…

It seemed like someone had just walked over her grave.

She had seen them all dead, all of them. Alim, Alistair, even herself, their bodies filled with arrows, and standing over them…was an elf.

He had blonde hair and olive skin. The section of road where they were to die was the perfect place for an ambush, high hills on both sides, and trapped to oblivion.

They would not stand a chance.

Leliana tried to avoid thinking about that, but the dreams remained as strong as ever.

They were all facing eminent death.

Alim led them away from the refugees, the route they were now on was an old trade route not used in a while, not part of the main path. Bodahn assured them that no guards patrolled this route, not with the main highway so important. If they were to slip past Loghain's men undetected it would be the perfect route.

Leliana was not so sure.

They had been walking for about an hour when they came to a part of the road with two tall hills on both sides.

Leliana gasped.

_It was the same from her __**vision!**_

"Alim," she said nervously, "Warden we need to stop."

"Stop sister," Alim gave her a curious look, "Why?"

She wanted to tell him about her vision, but she could not. He would never believe it!

"We are walking into a trap," she said, she pointed to the two hills, "That would be the perfect position to catch us in a crossfire. We would not stand a chance."

Alim regarded the hill thoughtfully, he was no military strategist, but the Ancient Stormbreaker had been.

His memories confirmed what Leliana was telling him.

That stretch of road was the perfect kill zone.

Leliana might be jumping at shadows, but then again…she might not be.

He was about to order them to turn around, better safe than sorry.

That is when he heard a woman scream.

He almost leaped forward, but caution and Leliana's warnings made him wary.

A beautiful blonde girl with a bloody torn blouse ran towards them, she was panting like an animal at bay, her eyes wild with fear.

She caught sight of the wardens and their companions.

"Oh thank the Maker," the girl cried, "Please…you must help us, darkspawn…darkspawn attacked the wagon! Please help us. Follow me…I will lead you to them."

The girl turned back the way she had come.

Alim's ears twitched nervously.

"Ali," he said to the former Templar, "Do you sense any darkspawn around here?"

Alistair shook his head, he did not.

""Me neither," Alim snorted. It was unlikely anyone but a grey warden would respond to the threat of darkspawn, but then again, most people were not aware that the wardens could sense them.

"A trap you say?" Alim asked Leliana.

The sister nodded, she already had her bow ready, an arrow loaded and ready to fly.

Alim sighed, one day he was going to be the one setting ambushes for people, he swore it.

"Prepare for battle," he said softly.

His companions drew their weapons. He pulled spellbinder from its sheath on his belt. He looked skyward, a few clouds up there, not enough to be much help, but the wind was with them.

That could be useful.

"Warden."

HE nearly jumped out of his skin, the voice came from behind them, it…

It was that knight from Highever.

"Yes," Alim said in a dangerous voice.

"I changed my mind," the knight said coldly, "If you are going after Loghain and Howe, I want in."

"Welcome aboard," Alim shrugged, "We currently have a trap waiting for us up ahead. You want to give us a hand dealing with it?"

"Gladly," the knight drew his sword. Alim could not help but notice the gold and silver markings on the hilt.

That…was not the sword of a common soldier.

"What is your name?" Alim asked.

"Gus," the man responded, "You may call me Gus."

"Well Gus," Alim chuckled, "you just walked into something interesting."

The knight regarded the way ahead of them.

"A perfect kill box," he agreed.

"Well I'm glad everyone agrees," Alim said rolling his eyes, he motioned them forward, "Come everyone," he said smirking, "let us see if we cannot turn this trap to our advantage.

As one the group moved forward.

It was time to spring the trap…their trap.

IOI

An hour later, Zevran Aranaii awoke with a splitting headache and his arms painfully bound.

Considering that he should have been dead, this was not that bad of a result to their failed trap.

He looked up at his captors, his rather attractive captors if he had to be perfectly honest.

He managed his best winning smile.

"Well…this is interesting," he said pleasantly, "I figured I would wake up dead, or not wake up at all as the case may be."

"You will speak when spoken to!" the small elf in the robes growled.

Ooh wasn't he a little spitfire.

Zev grinned.

"Ah so I am to be interrogated, let me cut to the chase and save us all some time. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends; I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the purpose of slaying all surviving Grey Wardens, a purpose that I have failed at…sadly."

"Antivan Crows?" Alim asked.

"An order of assassins out of Antiva," the cute red-haired girl offered, "Very powerful, and known for always getting the job done, so to speak."

Zev nodded, it was always nice to meet a fan.

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to hire this man," the red head finished.

"Quite right my dear," Zev said, "I'm surprised none of you have heard of the crows down here. Where I come from we are rather infamous."

"I don't suppose I need to ask who hired you?" the elf in the robes and hat asked.

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capitol, Loghain I believe his name was, through his grace Teyrn Rendon Howe of Highever."

A knight in dirty armor drew his sword, the young man in splintmail, and the red head stopped him.

"Bastard," the knight spat, "You were one of the ones who attacked Highever weren't you?"

"Oh I have never been to that place," Zev admitted, "I was brought here to do a job, to perform a specific purpose."

"And now that you have failed," the elf in the hat asked.

"Well that is between Loghain and the Crows, and between the Crows and myself."

"And between you and I," the elf growled.

"But of course, but we have already established that," Zev reminded him helpfully.

The red head turned to the elf with the hat, "Alim there is no reason for us to believe anything he says."

"True enough my dear," Zev replied, "which is why I have no reason to lie to you. So, if we are done with the interrogation, I have an offer which might serve us both well…um…Alim was it?"

Alim nodded, "Speak quickly assassin, I am listening.

"Here is the thing," Zev sighed he recognized that he might have only one chance to save his life, "I have failed to kill you, so now…my life is forfeit, that is how it works, of course the problem with that is, is that I like living. So…what I propose is that I serve you instead."

Alim seemed confused by the offer, "But you just tried to kill me, Loghain paid you to."

"Actually he paid the crows, I got nothing, I would receive my share of the pay for the job once I had returned to Antiva, but that is likely not going to happen now is it," Zev said smiling, "So I think I would much rather have my life than coin."

"You switch loyalties quickly assassin," the dirty knight said.

"As I said, I was never loyal to this Loghain; I am simply a professional doing a job. One who recognizes a chance when he sees one. I know the crows, and I know their tactics. I can protect both you and myself, if I am permitted to of course."

The elf, Alim was considering his offer, "What do you want in return," he asked.

"Well, being allowed to live would be nice," Zev smirked, "and should I ever cease to be useful to you, you would let me go, but until then I am yours, is that fair?"

" A fine offer warden," a dark haired beauty in the back said in a sultry voice, "but I suggest we watch the food and water stores carefully. Poison is such a killer on the appetite."

"Quite right my dear," Zev agreed, "It seems the wardens do not travel with fools."

"No," the dark haired woman said glaring at the man in the splintmail, "They just recruit them."

"Hey," Splintmail whined.

Alim nodded, he had made his decision.

He pulled his dagger, for a brief moment Zev tensed, but then the warden leaned down and cut his bonds.

Zev sprang to his feet.

"So I am…part of the company now…marvelous," he said energetically.

Alim leaned in close, and whispered in his ear.

"At the first hint of betrayal, you die," the smaller elf growled.

"Sounds fair to me," Zev said dropping to one knee before Alim.

"I hereby pledge my service to you warden, until such time as I am dead or you release me. I am your man without question, this I swear."

Alim shook his head, this was just too surreal, but another blade against the Archdemon would be useful.

Provided it did not kill them anyway.

"Thank you…Zevran wasn't it?" he asked.

"Zev is fine warden," the assassin reminded him.

"Very well Zevran, come along then," Alim said curtly, "should anything be done about your friends?"

Zev turned to the bodies.

"Oh these were just hired swords warden, no one will miss them I am sure, for now we have places to be yes?"

He turned and started walking away.

The red head walked up beside him.

"Welcome Zevran," she said warmly, "I'm Leliana, having an Antivan crow join us seems like a fine plan,"

"And you are a companion to be as well then," Zev said warmly, " I never realized such beauty could be found among adventurers, perhaps we can share a tent tonight? I shall regal you with tales of Antiva while my head rests on your bosom.

Leliana frowned, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Alim walked behind him, he had no desire to walk anywhere that the assassin might get the drop on him.

He found himself wondering how Leliana had known about the trap, instinct perhaps, or something more.

He promised himself to ask about it the next time they were in camp.

Whatever he might say about Leliana, one thing was certain.

She was not some simply chantry sister, but what she truly was, and what she was truly after…

Alim could not say.

IOI

Alistair shook his head.

An assassin, they were actually bringing an assassin along now. He agreed with recruiting Gus, but this…this Zevran?"

Alistair did not agree with this.

"I will kill him if he tries anything," Gus offered.

Alistair nodded, at least someone's head was in the right place.

They proceeded down the road, making good time as they made for the Frostback Mountains.

They still had a long way to go.


	20. The Stone Prisoner pt 1

**Chapter 20: The Stone Prisoner **_**part one**_

The village of Honnleath was dead.

There was no other way to see it; the darkspawn had swept over it weeks ago, killing any who tried to stop them. Some of the people managed to escape, but far too many had been caught, killed, or violated in ways only the darkspawn considered appropriate.

Now they prowled the ruins of the village. The great tower that once stood here had been collapsed by the emissaries. Several shops burned piked heads and flayed skin hung as decorations, tributes to the monsters' victory.

The creature knew that a hand full of survivors remained, they intended to see them join the rest of the people here, but so far they had not been able to breach the magical defenses that now shielded the survivors.

Through the taint, the Archdemon sang to them, they would continue their efforts, finding the magic's weakness was only a matter of time.

And the darkspawns' time was now.

The creatures shambled through the ruins, looking for prey, or looting things that pleased them. The sound of thunder overhead did not distract them. The sky darkened, the clouds turned angry and rain began to fall.

A hurlock emissary perked up, it sniffed the air, sensing magic for the first time, it growled low in the back of its throat. Several of its hurlock brothers responded, they joined it in hunting this new prey.

It was only when they began to gather that the lightning began. Bolts struck in the center of their group. The emissary that summoned the other was burned to death in seconds. The creatures squealed in panic. They sought the source of this new attack, for that was all that this could be, and attack!

Through the taint they sensed it, somewhere outside the village gates.

The familiar sensation of their enemy, the darkspawn snarled and tried to charge.

The lightning continued to batter them.

A few managed to get out of the village but they ran into three men in armor. Alistair, Sten, and Gus gutted the beasts before they even had a chance to defend themselves.

On the road, just outside the village, Alim Surana directed the storm; this was something new to him. A spell showed by the ancient Stormbreaker from the phylactery, a means of softening up an enemy before you engaged them directly.

The spell was exhausting, sweat beaded his face and dampened his hair, he had to maintain strict discipline lest the storm blaze out of control and harm his allies.

He would not allow that to happen!

Leliana stood guard at his side with Morrigan and Bandit. Zevran was nearby chuckling to himself.

"So are little friend here commands the weather, marvelous," Zev chortled, "You would have done very well in the crows warden, death brought with the distinct flavor of a natural disaster."

Alim did not respond, in fact he could not even hear Zev. He was focusing all his strength into guiding the storm.

Morrigan almost laughed at the assassin, he certainly had a death wish.

"Tis unwise to speak of Alim's size elf," she warned him, "You had best be wary, lest a lightning bolt end your pathetic life sooner rather than later."

"I would not know anything about our friends…'size'…my dear Morrigan, at least not yet," the elf grinned, "Perhaps he and I can explore such things later."

Leliana shook her head, the assassin was incorrigible, but he had already proven a willingness to help them. The journey to this place had not been easy, and his blades had definitely come in handy.

She looked at Alim, his eyes blazing red with magic, lighting crackling off his robes and hat.

The elf could be terrifying when he needed to be. The power that he wielded awakened a bit of her old self, she found herself drawn to it, and wondered what it would take to turn that power to her advantage.

She shook her head, trying to wipe away those thoughts, that…that was not who she was anymore.

Leliana the bard had died in Denerim two years ago.

They were no longer the same person.

Alim gasped, as he released his hold on the storm, it began to drift away. It was still terrible, but he directed it south east, toward the advancing horde, slipping past it had not been easy but they had done it.

Now he intended to send them a fun gift, a warning that the Grey Wardens still lived, lived ...and would one day…be coming for all of them.

Leliana was at his side, steadying him, at one time he would have pushed the sister away not needed her help, but slowly…he had begun to come used to her presence. She fought well, and loyally.

That bought respect in his eyes.

IOI

Gus looked out over the village, the elf's rain had put out the fires, the wind had battered the darkspawn, they were starting to regain their feet, but they had been severely pummeled. Many of the creatures lay dead, burned to death by lightning.

Gus, the man who had once been known as Fergus Cousland, heir to the Teynir of Highever, shivered.

"Are you well warden?" he asked.

The elf snorted.

"I'm exhausted captain obvious," he chuckled, "How about you? Hey Ali," he called out to his fellow warden, ""You just got promoted to Commander Obvious."

The former Templar rolled his eyes.

"Thank you General Sarcasm," Alistair chuckled, killing a wounded darkspawn on the ground, "very nice indeed. I always wanted to rise in the ranks."

The elf chuckled.

Despite the disrespect in the elf's voice, the humor in the wardens got to him; Gus could not help but laugh.

It was the first time in many weeks.

The elf had opened the door for them here, if only the Couslands had had such a man in Highever maybe…

_Maybe his family would still be alive._

He had heard of their deaths as he and his chasind rescuers had made their way out of the Wilds. He…he had been numb then, unable to wrap his mind around what had occurred, but then fury came, and with it the desire to march into Highever and gut Rendon Howe, the man who had betrayed the Couslands, the man who now served at Teyrn Loghain's right hand.

Howe would pay, and Loghain to, Howe did not have the balls to do what he did, not without Loghain's blessing.

When Fergus had encountered the wardens he had seen an opportunity. The wardens would have to deal with Loghain and Howe eventually. He would stay close and stay silent about who he truly was.

Eventually the wardens would turn their attention to Denerim, and then…

House Cousland would be avenged.

IOI

Alim strode through the village like a conqueror, the remaining darkspawn had been slaughtered, but he could still sense that some of the beasts remained close. They would need to be cleared out as well, before all was done.

But first, he wanted to claim his prize.

When that merchant on the road told them about a golem being here, Alim had jumped at possessing its control rod. A golem, from what he remembered from his readings in the tower was a powerful force, and in times of war could be used to great effect.

He had followed the man's directions perfectly; he had looked forward to adding yet another powerful weapon to their arsenal.

They found the golem standing in the village square, its hands stretched up to the heavens; it looked as if it had frozen in the midst of screaming.

Alim regarded the golem curiously.

"It is…um…smaller than I would have expected," he mused to himself.

"But still a valuable prize warden," Morrigan purred as she approached, "We should activate it quickly, and be gone."

Alim nodded, though he still wanted to clear out the darkspawn here before they left. The golem could take care of that for them. Its smaller size meant it would be a better fighter in close quarters.

He pulled out the control rod and pointed it at the golem, now all that was needed was the code phrase.

"Dulef Gar," he said.

The others waited, holding their breaths.

The golem did not move.

"Dulef Gar," Alim repeated.

Again the golem did not move.

Alim held up the rod, inspecting it for damage, it looked fine, and he could sense the magic within, it felt like the golem, so it should have worked!

He tapped the rod against the golem, and said the words again, still nothing.

"Shit," the elf snorted.

"We have wasted our time here," Sten grumbled.

"I don't get it," Alim said tapping his chin, "It should have worked, the rod seems fine."

"Perhaps the words are wrong warden," Morrigan offered, "Tis a likely explanation don't you think?"

Alim nodded, he supposed that made sense.

Still…it did piss him off that the merchant had given them the wrong code phrase.

His eyes wandered the fallen tower; he sensed the magics in the place, the home of the owner of the golem perhaps.

Would the man have written down such information, it was worth a look, and besides, he could sense the darkspawn down there.

He would happily take out his frustrations on them.

"There are more darkspawn within this tower," he warned the others, be on your guard, and keep an eye out for anything that might tell us how to activate our stone friend here."

The others nodded.

"Can we expect traps inside Alim?" Leliana asked, "Mages do like that privacy, no?"

"A reasonable assumption sister," he replied, "I'm hoping the darkspawn tripped them all when they entered, but be on your guard none the less."

One by one the wardens and their companions filed into the tower. Alim found himself hoping that they would come across something to activate the golem down here.

He would be most annoyed if they made this trip for nothing,

IOI

The survivors of Honnleath had nearly given up.

The darkspawn emissary had been working for hours to breach the magic shield with no success, but it was getting closer.

"**Break in**," the genlock said with a phlegmy cackle, "**Break in."**

Many of the people sobbed and prayed; they would be no match if the creatures got in here, and they were too scared to retreat deeper into the laboratory.

The spawn tried a new spell; the shield shimmered, but did not break.

It was at that moment that the Maker chose to answer their prayers.

Alim and company stormed into the room. Morrigan froze the genlock with a cone of cold, while Alistair shattered it. Alim, still weak magically, engaged the creatures with his sword spellbinder. Bandit and Leliana fought at his side.

The spawn had been taken completely by surprise; they had been too focused on the shield.

Soon, the battle was over.

The people of Honnleath looked up hopefully.

A blonde haired man stepped forward.

"Did the Bann send you, to save us," he asked.

"No," Alim shook his head, "I'm a grey warden, and I need your help."

The people sobbed happily, many embraced, they were saved!

"You…you have our thanks warden," the man said with a grateful sigh, "I'm Matthias, I…I don't see how we could help you?"

"I'm looking for the man or woman who owns that statue out in the square, we need to speak."

At the mention of the statue Matthias's eyes turned cold.

"You came here for Shale," he spat.

Alim nodded, Shale? Well, at least he knew the golem's name now.

Matthias raised his hand, and whispered under his breath, the shield opened, the survivors of Honnleath ran from the chamber.

The man motioned Alim forward.

The elf followed.

IOI

Alistair and Leliana stood at Alim's side as the elf listened to Matthias's tale.

He was apparently the son of Wilhelm, the hero mage who aided King Maric regain his throne thirty years ago. The golem had been the mages greatest weapon then.

As years passed Wilhelm had experimented on the golem, changed its size, added crystals, Matthias did not know the whole story, but then one day, the golem had snapped and killed its master.

Alim winced; he could imagine how much was left of Wilhelm when a golem got finished with him.

"I bought a code phrase along with the rod," Alim said showing it to Matthias, "but the golem still won't activate."

Matthias considered what Alim had told him.

"My mother might have passed along the wrong phrase; she said that she never wanted to see Shale active again."

"A shame," Morrigan smirked, "Had you had the golem when the darkspawn attacked, many of you might have been spared," the witch chuckled to herself, "such a pity."

Alistair glared at her.

She smiled sweetly at him.

"Do you know the code phrase?" Alim asked.

"Yes," Matthias nodded, "but before I give it to you I must ask for your help."

Alim nodded, sounded like a fair deal.

"My daughter," the said looking like he was about to sob, "She…she got scared and fled deeper into the laboratory. I'm not sure how she got passed the magical defenses; they killed the man that went after her. Can…can you help…can you bring my little girl back?"

"We could always take the code phrase warden," Zev offered sharpening one of his daggers.

Matthias's eyes widened in fear.

Alim glared at the assassin.

"We are not hurting these people," the elf snapped, "This man only wants to save his child."

_Just as my mother wanted to save me,_ Alim thought.

Alim sighed; he would not doom a child needlessly.

"What kind of traps are down there?" he asked.

"I'm not sure warden," the man said, "But my father never let me go down there, he said it was dangerous.

Lovely, Alim thought, he pulled out a lyrium flask and downed it with one gulp.

He shuddered at the foul taste.

Things were never easy were they?

"Ali, Leliana, and Morrigan with me, the rest of you, stay here incase anything tries to hurt these people. Sten can I count on you to keep these people safe?"

The large man stood a little straighter.

"I do not see the value of this warden, but yes." The Qunari replied.

Good," he nodded, "then it looks like we have some traps to disable, Sister keep an eye out for physical ones, Morrigan and I will deal with any wards we find."

Leliana nodded, happy to be included in this mission.

The witch snorted, but obeyed.

Leliana took the lead, her trained eye looking for any sign of problem.

The four of them entered the laboratory.

In the distance, Alim thought he could hear squealing, it did not sound friendly.

The elf sighed.

Things were never, ever, easy.


	21. The Stone Prisoner pt 2

**Chapter 21: The Stone Prisoner part 2**

Alim drove his sword through the center of the dust wraith; it exploded with a high pitched shriek, covering the party in a fine coat of dust.

"Shit," Alim sneezed, he hated dust, he hated stupid underground labs filled with shades and dust wraiths, but more importantly.

He really, **really** hated the mage Wilhelm.

_**STUPID, STUPID BASTARD!**_

If the stupid bastard was not dead already, Alim would have done the deed himself.

The man had won his freedom during the Orlesian wars, and what did he do with it? He started dabbling in demonology; if the Templars had found out they would have slaughtered him first and asked questions never!

_And that would have been the end of the concept of a free mage in Ferelden._

Whatever happened here, Alim was determined to destroy all reference to Wilhelm's work; the chantry did not need any more ammunition to oppress the mages.

They had enough of that already.

"Lovely," Morrigan snorted wiping at the dust that covered her pale skin, "Tis a fool's errand we are on warden! The girl must surely be dead by now, or possessed!"

Alim hated to admit it, but it was likely that Morrigan was right. Given the number of demons they had encountered down here, low level though they may be, anyone of them could have possessed the girl and tried to flee.

Still…if they wanted the golem they had to push on!

Leliana was bent over the next doorway, she saw so no sign of traps, but that did not mean that the mage had not left some kind of magical ones, ones that her skills could not detect.

"No physical traps Alim," she called out.

"Thank you sister," the elf said, he reached out with his mind, he felt another magical barrier, not as strong as the one that had kept the darkspawn out, but from what he could tell, this one was not designed to keep others out, it had been conjured to keep something in.

Alim frowned.

Wilhelm's journal had spoken of a demon he had been experimenting on, a powerful one. The mage had been confident that his powers could contain the creature, perhaps too confident.

Wilhelm's writing suggested that they were dealing with one of the higher level demons, which meant it was likely a sloth, desire, or pride demon.

Any of those could be dangerous; Alim had personally encountered a pride demon during his harrowing.

It was an experience he was not looking to repeat anytime soon.

I hope you're up on your Templar abilities Ali," he said to his fellow warden, "Depending on what kind of demon is in this room you might have to step up and make sure it doesn't try to enthrall any of us."

"I will do my best Lim," Alistair replied.

"Then we are all doomed," Morrigan said dryly.

Alistair glared at her.

"Tell me Morrigan," the former Templar said frowning, "Do you enjoy being a bitch, or do you just not know how to be nice?"

The witch smirked.

"I can be nice when I desire to, sadly desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so, as you well know."

Alistair's glare darkened.

Alim rolled his eyes.

"I don't mean to interrupt the lover's spat, but can we get back to killing the demon," the elf said coldly.

"L…Lover's spat," Alistair gulped his eyes wide.

Morrigan glared at the elf.

"What a repulsive thought warden," the witch actually sounded hurt, "I would sooner die than let that Templar twit touch me!"

"Good to know," Alim said blandly, "Leliana I sense no magical traps beyond the barrier, are you sure there are no physical ones?"

"It looks clear Alim," the sister shrugged, "but If there is truly a demon in there…"

"There is," Alim informed her.

"Then Maker help us all," Leliana said whispering a quick prayer.

"Don't listen to anything it offers," he told the others, "WE find the girl, and we get out of here. Everyone got that?"

His companions nodded as one.

The elf nodded.

"Well then…let's go see what kind of demon that fool Wilhelm summoned shall we?"

Alim passed through the barrier followed closely by the others.

Hopefully there was still something left of the girl to save.

Hopefully.

IOI

As it turned out, it was not an easy thing rescuing Imalia, Mathias's daughter.

The girl had become enthralled by a desire demon. The creature had disguised itself as a cat and lured the girl in.

Both Alistair and Alim could sense the magic that swelled around the so called 'Kitty.'

Kitty wanted them to release the barriers that held it there, and she also wanted the girl.

Leliana had been afraid that Alim would let the creature have her if it meant getting the golem. Alistair had wanted to kill the creature, but couldn't the girl was already bonding with it. Any attempt to attack it would force the demon to bond with the girl, destroying her in the process.

The sister feared that however this ended it would mean the end of the little girl.

Alim had other plans.

He offered to release the barriers, but demanded that the demon leave the girl, and not return.

Kitty was hesitant, but the chance to escape its prison after almost two decades was too hard to resist.

She agreed to their terms.

Alim examined the panels on the floor that made up the restraint glyph. By sliding them around in their slots it was possible to redirect the magic. The demon could not do it, Wilhelm had been smart enough to ward it against the demon's touch, and the little girl did not have the patience to understand and unlock the power herself.

Leliana did not like the idea of releasing a desire demon on the unsuspecting world, but if the girl was safe, that gave them some options they could work with. Once she was out of danger they could do what needed to be done.

Alim solved the glyph, causing the magic barriers to collapse.

The demon purred happily, after being caged for so many decades, it was joyous to finally be set free.

That did not stop it from trying to break its promise and seize the girl however.

Alim had prepared for that, he knew a few of the circle's wards for defending young children from demons, wards that prevented a demon from gaining a foothold in a child's mind. They made the girl's emotions no longer an easy road for the creature to enslave her.

She would be shielded from its glamours, and sense the true danger she was in.

He had been murmuring the enchantment for those wards ever since he agreed to help kitty escape her prison.

By the time that demon tried to betray them and seize the girl she was fully shielded from its magic.

The girl screamed, shouting that she would not let the creature inside her!

The demon was furious!

It transformed.

IOI

"Get behind me!" Leliana shouted to the girl.

The desire demon appeared as a beautiful violet skinned woman with horns, a tail, and razor claws. Its voice was wild with fury!

"SHE IS MINE!" it howled.

Leliana put an arrow in the creatures shoulder.

The demon hissed; it raised its hands, dead bodies that Wilhelm had been experimenting with rose.

They tried to attack the wardens and their allies.

Alistair smited Kitty, while Alim and Morrigan used flame and chain lightning on the walking corpses, after fighting the foul things in the Brecilian Forests, they were quite familiar with dispatching such creatures.

Alistair's Templar training protected him from the demon's glamours. The former Templar pressed the attack, his blade slicing the beast in the side, demonic blood gushed from the wound.

It lashed out with fel magics, magics that struck Morrigan. The witch wailed as the creature tried to drain her life force.

Alistair roared in fury, he purged the demon of its mana, bashed it with his shield and seized it by the throat when it tried to rise.

Kitty struggled in his powerful grip; she tried to summon her corpses, but was too late.

Alistair wrenched the demon's head to the side.

Its neck broke with a loud wet snap.

Kitty crumbled to dust before their eyes.

Despite his arguments with the witch, Alistair did not want to see her harmed.

HE had not been there to save Duncan.

He would not make that mistake again.

The former Templar cleansed the witch of the demon's enchantment. Alim came to their side, he used a quick rejuvenation spell, and it would restore some of what the demon had stolen from Morrigan.

The rest would be up to her.

Imalia sobbed in Leliana's arms, the sister did her best to comfort the girl.

Alim came up to her; she stared at him with the huge sobby eyes.

The elf managed a weak smile.

"Let us get you back to your father," he offered.

The little girl hugged the elf, he reluctantly returned it.

He really wasn't one of those huggy people.

IOI

Matthias was overjoyed when they returned; he pulled his daughter into a tight hug, thanking the wardens profusely.

Alim gave the man a curt nod.

He asked Alistair to carry Morrigan outside. He also suggested that Leliana take Imalia for a moment.

He needed to speak with her father in private.

The sister nodded, she convinced the girl to go with her.

Imalia smiled shyly at Alim as she left the tower.

"Bye Mister Elf," she said with a wave.

Alim waved back, he was…happy to have been able to aid the girl.

But he still needed the code phrase.

And Matthias needed to be warned about his daughter.

Once the girl was out of earshot Alim turned to her Father, his eyes grim.

"Your daughter is a mage ser, I can sense it," he informed him.

"That is not possible," Matthias said with a nervous chuckle, "I'm no mage."

"But your Father was," Alim reminded him, "It sometimes skips a generation. That was how your daughter managed to breach your father's defenses. She has magic, which means you have a problem. As soon as a Templar gets within range of her, he will sense it too, ad your daughter will be off to the circle."

"They can't do that," the man said defiantly, "My Father was a free mage…they cannot…"

"They can and they will because she is untrained and without a master. I'm not trying to scare you ser, I'm trying to warn you. The safety your father enjoyed does not extend to his granddaughter. If the Templars hear of what happened down there they will consider the girl too weak for training. They _**will **_make her tranquil. I'm truly sorry."

Matthias looked like he was ready to burst into tears.

"What can I do warden? My little girl…my butterfly…I can't let her go!"

Alim gave the man a sad look; the look on the man's face reminded him of his own mother's so long ago.

The elf sighed.

"Get out of Ferelden, see if you can track down the independent mage's collective. They have representatives in most major cities in Thedas."

"**But they will take her away too!"** the man's voice cracked.

"But _**they**_ will give her back, she…your daughter needs to be trained Matthias. The only other option is the circle. These are your only options. As I said…I'm sorry."

The man looked like he was going to collapse.

"My Imalia," he sobbed, "My sweet little Butterfly."

Alim shifted uncomfortably, this felt a little too familiar for his liking.

Finally the man nodded, he would do as the warden suggested.

His daughter needed to be trained.

The man nodded.

'Good man," the elf responded with a supportive squeeze to the man's shoulder, "Now I must ask you to fulfill your promise. I need the golem's code phrase."

Matthias nodded.

If the warden could control Shale, he was welcome to it!

Matthias wanted nothing more to do with it.

IOI

"PUT ME DOWN TEMPLAR TWIT!"

Alim smirked as he emerged from the tower; it seemed that Morrigan was awake.

The witch sprang from Alistair's arms; she had blood in her amber eyes!

The former Templar backed up nervously.

"AH…Lim…HELP!"

"He saved your life again Morrigan," the elf informed her, "And he killed the demon. You are in his debt I think."

The witch glared at Alistair. For a moment Alim feared that she might attack him anyway.

The fury faded, but it was replaced by a cold glare!

"Thank you fool," she spat, "take your life as a reward!"

The witch stalked off angrily.

Zev chuckled from where he was standing.

"Ah…that is our Morrigan for you," the assassin chuckled, "A gentle and yielding flower."

"SILENCE ELF!" the witch hissed.

Zev fell silent, a knowing smile on his lips.

Alim advanced towards deactivated golem, he raised the control rod.

Here goes nothing, he thought.

"Dulan Harn," he said clearly.

The glyphs on the golem's skin began to glow, the crystals in its fists and shoulders flickered.

The stone head twitched.

The golem stretched like a man asleep far too long, its stone joints creaked after its long slumber.

It turned to glowing blue eyes on the elf. Alim stood a little straighter.

The golem sighed.

"I knew someone would find the control rod," its tinny voice was sarcastic, its stance suggested annoyance.

"And it is another mage, how wonderful," the golem grumbled, "Yes…it is a mage, yes it is, but smaller this time. Downright tiny to be honest.

Alim's eyes narrowed, his ears twitched with annoyance.

"Hello to you to," he said sarcastically.

"I suppose I should be grateful to it," the golem snorted, "I have stood in this spot and watched the pathetic villagers scurry around me for…I don't know how long, many, many years."

"Oh you poor dear," Leliana cooed, "that…that would be really, really boring."

"More than you know," the golem shook its head, "Tell me, did the darkspawn get all the villagers?"

"No," Alim confessed, "some escaped."

"Such a pity," the stone creature replied.

Alim was struck speechless, he…he had not expected….well…this.

The golem looked around; it seemed confused after its long inactivity.

The creature's eyes narrowed.

"Something is wrong," it murmured.

"That is putting it mildly," Alim responded.

"It has the control rod, I am awake so it must, but I…hurry give me an order…any order."

Alim grimaced.

"I don't like where this is going," the elf mumbled.

"Then order me to stop, or go away, anything…just please!"

"BE silent," Alim snapped.

The golem paused… and then…

"Nothing," it said, "I feel no compulsion to obey its command. The rod…it…it must be broken!"

Oh shit, Alim thought.

"So what happens now," Alistair asked it, "You go on a killing spree."

The golem snorted.

"Do not be a fool," It snapped.

Morrigan smiled, "I think I am starting to like you golem," she purred.

"And it has another mage with it, charming," the golem sighed, "I would never kill without reason, except maybe the birds. Those foul feathered creatures with their fouler droppings. I could crush them all!"

Alim tossed the rod aside_, so much for having his own personal golem._

"It seems I have free will now," the golem mused, "But…what shall I do now?"

"What do you want to do my large stony friend?" Zevran asked it.

"I don't know, the golem shrugged, "After being trapped her for so long, I have no idea what the outside world is like anymore, no idea what things are like outside this village. I find myself at a loss."

Leliana felt sorry for the golem, she could imagine what it must be like, to have no purpose.

That had been her two years ago.

The golem turned to Alim.

"Why did it wake me? What did it intend to do with me?"

Alim smiled, this might work out after all.

"I am a grey warden," he informed it, "I need allies to help me stop the Blight. Will you stand with us?"

"It is referring to the darkspawn?" the golem asked.

Alim nodded.

"They are a menace that must be crushed true," the golem admitted, "Though not as evil as the birds. The damnable feathered fiends!"

Alistair suppressed a chuckle; the golem's bird obsession was interesting.

"I invite you to come with us," Alim said to the golem, "Your strength would be appreciated, and it is a purpose, is it not?"

The golem considered what he had said; it would be nice to have something to do, anything that was not standing in this square anymore.

The golem nodded.

"I shall accept its offer and follow it around then," the golem nodded, "I am called Shale by the way."

"Is that your name, or what you are made of?" Alim snickered.

Shale narrowed its eyes.

"Ha. Ha. It is so very funny; I think I forgot to laugh." The golem grumbled.

The elf laughed lightly, he recognized the need to take a step back.

No need to irritate their newest member.

"My apologies Shale," Alim said with a slight bow, "I am Alim of the Grey Wardens, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Shale paused.

Respect…from a mage?

Interesting.

"This will be interesting," the golem said quietly. Perhaps the short warden elf would not be as bad as it thought.

The wardens and their companions left Honnleath, Shale paused mid-stride, a village chicken that had survived the darkspawn attack pecked at the ground near the golem.

The ground shook, and there was a fatal bawk!

Alim turned; Shale was standing there, its huge hand covered in blood and feathers.

The golem shrugged.

Sighing, Alim hurried on.

It seems like they had added even more crazy to their little party.

The archdemon must be quaking in its lair; it had to be with such a formidable force opposing it.

Alim was just so thrilled.


	22. Dreams and Visions

**Chapter 22: Dreams and Visions**

_She was lost in darkness._

_She struggled against it, fought against it, but there was nowhere to go, she felt…trapped, as if she was buried underneath leagues of stone. When she tried to cry out…only darkness emerged…._

_And the darkness was not empty._

_It began slowly, she could smell smoke, feel the extreme heat coming from the lake of lava bellow her. The shadows seemed to have a life all their own, she could make out over a dozen pairs of glowing eyes._

_Eyes that were all watching her._

_And there, in the heart of the darkness, she saw it. It was a shape of golden splendor; blue light seemed too flicked about its surface. This thing…the strange and unusual thing!_

_Then…it began to bleed._

_Blood pooled around the object a puddle at first but growing, ever growing, if filled the darkened chamber!_

_She struggled trying to free herself, she tried to cry out for help but only blood seemed to come out._

_That…that is when she heard the laughter._

_It was a woman's voice, at least that is what it sounded like, but unlike any woman's voice she had ever heard before. The voice was cold, the laughter was cruel sounding, and dripping with madness!_

_It was at that moment when someone finally noticed her. She tried to swim away from the loud thundering footsteps, but it was no use._

_A hand of stone reached down for her, it…_

IOI

Leliana awoke; she lay in her bedroll, her breath coming in heavy gasps, her skin damp with sweat.

She could still feel the heat from the lava, that mad voice laughing in her ears.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to will away the last of dream's images.

No, not a dream, **another vision!**

The sister sighed, she…she was starting to fear that she was going mad. Why was this still happening? She had obeyed the Maker's will.

_Why was he torturing her like this?_

He is not torturing you, her conscience chided, he is preparing you for what is to come next.

She did not like thinking about that, but she could not deny the possibility.

She rolled over, tried to fall back to sleep, but as soon as she started to drift off again, the darkness began to return.

She sat up, unwilling to face the vision again.

She looked outside of the tent. Dawn had not yet come, and the fire had burned down to ambers.

She was surprised to see that Alim was awake, the elven warden sat near the dying fire eating an apple and staring up at the slowly lightening sky. Bandit lay asleep at his feet, twitching as he dreamed.

She had not wished to disturb him, but the thought of going back to sleep right now did not appeal either.

She slipped out of her tent, and almost wished she had not. They were still pretty high in the Frostback Mountains now. Fall was already giving way to winter. A cold biting wind blew out of the west, making her shiver; she was dressed simply in her boots and nightgown. She rubbed her bare legs, seeking to warm them against the cold. She sat across from Alim, dipping into her pack looking for something to eat.

"Can't sleep?" Alim said startling her.

She nodded, finally finding a piece of dried meat; she pulled it out and began her breakfast.

Not that it was much of one of course; she would start work on a proper meal soon, as soon as she had banished the last shadows of the vision from her mind.

"Bad dreams?" it sounded more like a statement than a question

Once again Alim startled her; it was rare that he would speak to her outside of giving her orders or asking if she had succeeded in the tasks he had given her.

_Still…he had let her help him after Bellethiel died, she had been concerned for him then, maybe…he was concerned for her now._

_It was unlikely, but possible._

"Yes," she said softly, answering him.

The elf nodded.

"Me too," he confessed, "Blighted darkspawn, blighted Duncan, I sear sister, if our old commander was here right now, I would kick him in the balls for not warning me about these damn nightmares."

Leliana nodded, she had heard Alim cry out in his sleep, Alistair too, she…she found herself grateful that she was not a warden herself.

She could not imagine being forced to endure the darkspawn in both her dreams and her waking world.

Alim shivered he wrapped his coat tighter around himself, cursing softly under his breath.

"Can I get you something?" Leliana asked.

"I'm fine," he replied, but…his ears twitched, he was thinking. He glanced up at her; he was trying very hard not to gawk at her legs. She was still a chantry sister after all.

_She seemed so…lost, he had heard her moaning in her sleep something about heat, and laughing. He knew that he should not care, that if he was in her place she would not try to understand him._

_Yet…he made the attempt anyway._

"What did you dream?" he asked.

She sighed, part of her was afraid to tell him, he…he did not believe in her visions, she had kept quiet about them because she did not want him to think her mad, or at least not as mad as he thought she was.

"I doubt if you would believe me," she said.

The elf sighed.

"I will make you a deal sister," he said, "You tell me what you were dreaming about, and I promise to keep Alistair away from the cooking for a week…fair deal?"

Leliana laughed, she had sampled what Alistair called cuisine, the deal was more than fair.

She sighed, how best to begin, she could lie she knew, she was an excellent liar, but she did not want to…not about this. She wanted Alim to understand that what she was seeing was more than just dreams.

At least…she hoped they were.

IOI

Fergus could not sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes they were waiting for him. Eyes that had once been so full of love had turned to anger and blame. Anger at him for failing them so completely, and for letting their murderers escape without being punished for their crimes.

They were all there now, Father, Mother, Elissa, his beloved Oriana, and…

Fergus's heart lurched.

**Oren…his son…his poor little boy!**

He stifled a sob…barely.

It would have been better if Howe had killed him in Highever, then he could have been with his family. Now…now Fergus was all alone. A Teyrn with no Teynir to rule over, he had nothing left but his life, and that he would give happily, if he could see his beloved family again.

Fergus left his tent, he wiped at his face, trying to return it to a blank mask. He would see if Sten needed help with his patrol, provided the Qunari had not gone to sleep of course.

He had been in so much of a hurry; he walked into a stone wall that had stopped outside his tent.

A stone wall named Shale.

Fergus looked up at the golem, truth be told, it gave him the creeps. Why the wardens had let it come with them was beyond him.

She looked down on him with its cold glowing eyes.

"What is the dirty knight looking at?" Shale inquired.

Fergus was confused, "The…the what?"

"The dirty knight," the golem repeated, "It is a knight after all, and it is dirty, I think the name is most accurate.

Fergus touched his face; his hand came a way smudged with grime. He looked down at his armor, and saw the rather unseemly state that it was in.

He could practically hear Oriana berating him.

"_What has happened Fergus, you look a fright!"_

Thinking about his wife, brought tears to his eyes again, he did his best to push them back, but he was not entirely successful.

Shale continued to stare at him.

Fergus felt his temper starting to flare, why could the golem not leave him in peace?!

"The dirty knight was talking in its sleep," the golem said, "I heard it crying out a name. Crying out for someone named Oriana, is this person important to the dirty knight?"

Fergus wanted to tell the walking pile of stone to mind its own business, but…at the same time…

"She is…was…my wife," he mumbled, "The mother of my son."

I see," Shale responded, "Is the dirty knight's family still waiting for it, or have they given it up for dead?"

Fergus' temper flared.

"They are dead golem, my wife, my son, my sister, my parents, everyone I have ever loved! They were murdered in our home, and the bastard that did it still walks free. They are not doing anything anymore, simply rotting in whatever hole the murdering bastard tossed them into."

Shale continued to stare; it only made Fergus more angry.

"They are gone, and I am still here. If it taking me the rest of my life I will see their murderers punished for what they have done, and then they will know what it means to cross…"

Fergus paused, he…he had almost let it slip that he was a member of House Cousland.

Such a thing had to remain secret, at least for now.

"I have nothing left," he growled, "Only my memories that haunt me now, so please…please just leave me in peace!"

Shale did not move; the golem seemed to be…digesting what it had been told.

Fergus readied himself for some snarky comment, or perhaps for the golem to try to hit him.

It did neither, in fact, its response surprised him.

"The dirty knight is lucky to have its memories."

Fergus stood there, unable to respond.

Shale continued.

"I have no memories of my past; all I remember now is standing in the square, in the village, unable to move. It would have been nice to remember something, anything besides the stupid little villager scurrying all around me. I would be happy to have memories of something before. It would have been worth it to have something beyond watching the villagers scurry around me for so long."

Fergus paused, in…in that moment he found himself remembering so many things. Playing with Elissa when they were children, the first time he saw Oriana, watching Oren come into the world. These…memories, they were precious to him, more so now knowing that the people that had been a part of them were now gone.

He felt tears, running down his cheeks.

The golem sighed.

"And now the dirty knight leaks," It said shaking its head, "Why do squishy ones leak so much! How the sloshing of your wet little bodies does not drive you mad, I have no idea."

The golem strode off, leaving Fergus unable to stop himself.

He had not cried, not when he first heard about his family, the shock had been to great then, but now…now…

He could not help it, and he could not stop it.

Tears flowed, but he found himself laughing as well his family would have been horrified if they could see him now, all covered in dirt.

Elissa would have made some smart comment; Father would have likely backed her up.

Oriana would have demanded that he clean himself up this minute, less Oren get the wrong idea.

Mother would have tried to comfort him, to remind him of his duty as a Cousland, that as long as he still lived, the Cousland line continued.

It was ironic that his family's last lesson to him had been delivered by a snarky golem.

Fergus sighed; he did his best to wipe away the tears, and tried to focus on doing what needed to be done.

They would all be in Orzammar soon, he had visited there once as a boy, along with his father and King Maric.

He would be able to help the wardens, show them how best to deal with the Assembly and King Endrin.

It is what his Father would have done.

It was…what a Cousland would do.

It was…what he would do.

IOI

Alim listened as Leliana spoke.

The sister told him many things, about her vision in Lothering, the one involving Zevran, and the most recent one as well, the one involving the dark place and the river of blood.

He listened closely, not exactly sure what to make of it. He had to admit, he was tempt to think the sister was just crazy and let it end at that, but…

When she had finished, he sat quietly, thinking back to his time in the tower, and all the things that Irving had shown him, some of them could have been considered crazy as well, if they had not been true.

Leliana gave him the saddest of looks, she was clearly looking for confirmation that she was not mad, and that what she was seeing was not just nonsense.

Alim could not say that. He shifted uncomfortably, he removed his hat examining for damage, a dark spawn arrow had damaged it during the fight in Honnleath. Bandit sat up, sensing his master's discomfort.

Alim smiled, and scratched the dog's head; he snuffled happily and lay back down.

Leliana cleared her throat.

_Right, he owed her an answer._

"So what do you think?" she asked him.

"I'm not quite sure," he responded his ears twitching slightly, "Tell me sister, do you have any mages in your family?"

The question took her aback. She…no one had ever asked her that question before…

She was not sure how best to respond.

"I…I'm not really sure," she said honestly, "My Mother was a serving girl, she served the Lady Cecily for many a year…my Father…well…I do not know who my Father was. My parents were not married. Why do you ask?"

Alim tried to put this delicately, most people did not like being accused of having magical talent, he was not looking to insult her. He had a theory…nothing more.

"There are mages that believe that the benevolent spirits of the fade will talk to us sometimes," he began, "Usually, they have no interest in us or our world, but sometimes they will help. Can they see the future? Can they show it to us? I do not know. It is one option. You might have a touch of magical sensitivity, as I said it is one option."

"The fact that the Maker has sent these visions is another option, no?"

"It is," Alim shrugged, "I'm not one of the faithful sister. I never was and never likely will be. You asked my opinion on these…visions of yours, and I have given it."

"So you believe me," she said brightening, "You…you believe what I am saying."

"I **believe** you are experiencing something," he replied, "I can't say if that it is the Maker, or fade spirits, or even the holy cheese wheel of Andraste. Mages like to think that we understand the fade, but sadly we only scratch the surface of its full potential. What knowledge is available to us is limited; the chantry will not let us explore it properly. We simply do not know."

Leliana sighed with relief, she…she had feared that Alim would laugh at her, or worse think she had gone crazy and ask her to leave, but he had not…he was at least giving her the benefit of the doubt.

It felt like a weight had been lifted from her heart!

She could have almost kissed the elf.

"I…thank you warden. I have feared…feared that I had gone mad."

Alim laughed.

"Sister I have news for you; you are as nutty as a fruitcake," he chuckled, "But so am I, so is Alistair. That is the only explanation for why we are all here. This little band of misfits of ours against not only the darkspawn horde, but the Archdemon, and Teyrn Loghain as well. Few in Thedas would call us sane."

Leliana laughed.

"I suspect you are right," she grinned, "Few would risk what we are attempting, but it must be done, yes? The darkspawn must be opposed."

"Believe me sister, if I did not have them in my head now, I would likely disagree, but since I would like to have a goodnights sleep again sometime in my life. I have to accept the charge that has been given to me. Oh the wonders of being a Grey Warden**! I'm just enthralled, truly!"**

The sister smiled.

Despite his prejudice against anyone involved with the chantry, Alim found himself cheered by that smile. It was small, but the fact that he had inspired it warmed him slightly.

It was nice to know that he could make her smile.

A cold gust of wind blew through the camp, Leliana shivered; she wrapped her cloak around her bare legs.

"Orzammar will not be as easy as we thought," she said flatly.

Alim nodded, he suspected that would be true, even if he did not believe in her vision. It seemed unlikely that they would simply be able to walk up to the King of the dwarves and discuss the treaty over tea and cakes.

It would be nice, and it would likely happen in a perfect world.

Sadly, Thedas was far from perfect.

Leliana had warned him that madness and blood awaited them in Orzammar.

Alim found his enthusiasm to visit the place greatly diminished.

Sadly, he had no choice; it was like Alistair had told him.

A warden does what he must.


	23. The Pass

**Chapter 23: The Pass**

Gherlen's Pass, the one and only road to Orzammar had turned very treacherous. Though winter was still a few weeks off, a cold icy rain fell heavily along the road, turning the ground into a mixture of mud and ice, it was treacherous, and not fit for man or beast.

Alim pushed them on; they needed to reach the city before things got any worse.

Zevran, who had been travelling behind their leader, with Alistair watching him closely for any sign of betrayal looked up to the gray angry sky and sighed.

"My dear warden," he shouted, trying to be heard over the pounding rain, "I don't suppose you would consider using your powers to get us out of this?"

Alim shivered, he would love to do just that, sadly it was not his call.

I did not create this storm," he reminded the assassin, "It is storming here because that is what the elements need at this time. Nature demands it, so that is what is happening. If I was to interfere, I would risk bringing something worse down on us."

Zevran frowned, it made sense he supposed, but that did not mean that he had to like it.

"I don't suppose you could get it to let up for a bit, just until we reach the city."

Alim had an angry retort ready, but Morrigan beat him to it.

"Were you not listening fool,' she snarled, "Alim's powers are not infinite, if he attempted what you ask, he might anger the very elements we would avoid. Would you risk us getting caught in a worse storm?"

Despite the harshness of the weather, and Morrigan's attitude, the assassin smiled.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you are beautiful when you are angry my dear?" he said.

The witch rolled her eyes; she tried to stay focused, to keep from falling down, or worse sliding back down the path.

Either would be bad at this point.

Parshara, it is only rain," Sten grumbled, picking up his pace, Alim was shocked, the large warrior moved like a mountain goat.

_It must have been all the weight he was carrying around or perhaps the Qunari thrived on harsh conditions._

The elven mage suspected both were true.

Alim shook his head, part of him knew that they either needed to reach Orzammar tonight, or find shelter until this storm passed.

Either option would be good at this point.

IOI

Leliana was struggling, her boots spattered with mud, the road becoming slicker by the minute. She had been forced to use her bow as a walking stick.

A miserable sigh escaped her lips; it was not fit out here for man or beast!

Part of her wished that she had stayed with Bodahn and Sandal in the last inn they had passed, not that her visions would have allowed that.

_The same one continued to haunt her, the darkness, the glowing object, the blood, and the mad laughter. She could not close her eyes anymore without seeing it._

Part of her was beginning to resent their occurrence, they left her tired, and tired people made mistakes. She knew the dangers of that in her line of work.

She was rubbing her eyes, and not paying attention when she took a step…

The road slid out from underneath her.

She squealed struggling to remain upright, but she began to slide off the mountain pass down a deep ravine.

"Help!" she shrieked, "Somebody help!"

She heard Alim shout something, but could not hear it clearly over the wind and sound of her own struggles. She feared that this would be the end that she would slide down the mountain and be dashed on the sharp rocks below.

A powerful hand seized her by the collar of her leather vest; it yanked her up into the air.

She stopped struggling, and found herself staring into Shale's glowing blue eyes.

Shale seemed to be smirking at her.

"The sister needs to be more careful," the golem said snidely, "It can't expect me to be there to save it all the time."

Leliana could not think of a single angry retort, the golem had just saved her life.

"I suppose not," she said with a sheepish grin, "Thank you Shale."

"The muddy sister is welcome," the golem said putting her back on the road.

Leliana frowned down at herself, her cloak, her leathers, and her bare legs were covered in mud.

_She looked atrocious._

Marjolaine had showed her once the joy of mud packs, but she had never meant this!

"Are you okay!?" She heard Alim call back.

Leliana nodded.

"Good," she heard him reply, "Because we have made it."

He pointed above them.

A huge dwarven statue rose up, before them, a great maul gripped firmly with both hands over its head.

One of the guardian statues of the great city of Orzammar.

IOI

Everyone in the group, even Morrigan, breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone accept Shale perhaps, but she did not breathe so that was not surprising.

The group made its way carefully passed the statue; they could hear voices on the wind. Despite the weather, it seemed that there were people waiting outside the gates of Orzammar.

They sounded angry!

Alim sighed; it seemed that they were walking into yet more problems.

_He sooo, loved his life now._

IOI

Despite the treacherous weather, the market that had been set up outside the gates of the dwarven city was packed.

None of the stalls were open of course, but that did not stop the traders from gathering. Dozens of tents kept the freezing rain off the people, and where the stone was not covered dwarves sprinkled hot ash to keep the ground ice free.

Alim took off his hat and wrung it out near the base of the tent city. A chance to get out of the weather at this point was Maker sent to be sure.

Not that everything was peaceful here. He could hear the angry conversations as the traders vented their woes and frustrations.

They can't do this to us! We have contracts!

How long do they expect us to wait out here?

We should all leave; teach those arrogant bastards a lesson!

Like they really need a king to decide if they want to buy nutmeg!

Alim was not sure what to make of all this, had all these merchants been barred from entering the city?

Gus came up alongside of him.

"Something must have happened in the Assembly," he said.

"What is the Assembly?" Alim asked.

"That is the congress of royal houses," Gus informed him, "It is similar to the landsmeet we have in Denerim, the noble vote on what is best for the city.

Alim had to admit, he did not know much about the dwarves. His studies had focused mainly on magic and chantry history.

"Are you familiar with these people?" he asked the knight.

Gus's eyes turned sad.

"When I was a boy, King Maric came here; he brought a small company of men with him, including my father. I…I was just a squire then, but I picked up few things, my Father liked me to know the kind of people we were dealing with."

"Sounds like a smart man," Alim said.

"He was," the knight replied.

Alim flinched, that was smart of him, let's piss off or depress the one guy that can help him understand what exactly is going on.

He needed to back up and start again.

"I'm sorry," he said putting a hand on Gus's shoulder; the larger man did not shrug it off. He seemed grateful for the elf's sympathy.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"I don't suppose you would help me deal with these dwarves," he asked, "I think I may be a bit out of my depth."

Gus smiled slightly.

"I will do what I can warden," He promised, "I'm no expert, but I will advise you the best I can."

Fair enough," the elf nodded, "Thanks Gus."

Again the knight nodded.

The wardens and their allies made for the great doors. The traders parted at the show of armor and steel that group had.

Either that or they did not want to be stepped on by Shale.

Either way, the route was clear to sealed city gates. A small company of city guard barred the entrance. A small group of humans was also trying to enter the city. They were having no luck.

The wardens paused, listening to what was being said.

"You have to let me in; I'm the King's appointed messenger!"

"Veata, this land is held in trust for the sovereign dwarven kings. We will have none but our own, until the ascension is settled.

"King Loghain demands the allegiance of the deshyr, or lords, or whatever you chose to call them in your assembly. I'm his _**appointed**_ messenger!"

Alim's eyes narrowed at the mention of Loghain's name, both Alistair and Gus looked the same.

King Loghain was it!

Well, they would just see about that.

The overblown little toady, dressed in the colors of Gwaren and sporting a wyvern shield, was clearly not a soldier born. Likely some bootlicker looking to further his place in the royal court by carrying out a diplomatic mission.

He likely did not realize how dangerous his position was…

Alim intended to teach him.

Morrigan came to Alim's side; her amber eyes were hungry and cruel.

She glared at the Loghain messenger.

"Call down the lightning Alim," she purred, "fry the little newt."

Alim would be lying if he said he was not tempted, but the gates of Orzammar weren't the best place to flex his stormbreaker muscles. Besides, he had spellbinder now.

Sometimes one just needed to get his hands dirty.

He approached the man and his bodyguards. So far none had noticed him.

That was about to change.

"I do not care if you are the King's wiper," the city guard spat, "We will have none but our own until our throne has been settled."

"Greetings Master dwarf," Alim said with a bow, "We seek entrance into the great city of Orzammar."

The messenger glared at him.

"Go away knife ear," he spat, "If King Loghain's messenger can't enter, you certainly may not!"

"The human speaks to truth elf," the guard said regretfully. "The throne of Orzammar is currently under dispute. King Endrin Aeducan returned to the stone three weeks ago, sick over the loss of his son and daughter. The city is sealed until a new king can be chosen."

"How long will that take?" the elf asked.

"As long as it must," the guard sighed, "The assembly has gone through three votes in as many weeks with no success. If the matter is not settled soon…we…we face the possibility of a civil war.

Alim rolled his eyes, _**oh…that is just great!**__ What is it that makes people think that a Blight is the perfect time to have a civil war!_

Leliana stepped forward.

"You must let us into the city," she said coldly.

"And why is that human," the guard said, amused by her presumption.

Leliana gave him her best withering smile, even covered in mud, with soaking wet hair the sister was an intimidating sight, the guard flinched under her cold gaze.

"You stand before Alim, Warden Commander of the Grey for all of Ferelden," she informed him, "We come on a mission vital for the survival of not only Orzammar, but of the dwarven people themselves. We have a treaty that your leaders signed in good faith. LET US PASS!"

Alim's eyes widened.

_Did she call him their commander? Where had this come from?_

He…he had never heard the sister speak with such cold authority!

He hated to admit it, but it was a little scary…

Not to mention…a little hot!

Alistair handed the guard the treaty, he opened it up and read it.

Loghain's toady was livid.

"The wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden! They are sworn enemies of King Loghain!"

"Silence fool," Morrigan grinned, "You are in the presence of your betters!"

The man stared…speechless, his Adam's apple bobbing with impotent fury.

Alistair chuckled, he couldn't have said it better himself.

The guard nodded as he finished reading, he handed the treaty back to Alistair.

"That is the royal seal, which means that only the Assembly can honor it. Grey Wardens you may pass."

The toady's face turned red.

"You…you are letting in a traitor, and a foreigner…a…knife-ear!"

Alim smiled sweetly at him.

"Go back to your fake king friend; the dwarves will not hear his lies today!"

The man glared at the elf.

"I will not be spoken to in this manner! I am King Loghain's MESSENGER! I will not be talked down to by an elf and his Orlesian whore!"

Alim lowered his staff, he had heard enough!

Leliana beat him to it.

She scratched the man's cheek with a small throwing knife.

He leapt back drawing his sword.

"You will pay for that whore," he spat, "I…I..."

The man began to gasp, he couldn't breathe!

He fell to his knees choking; blood ran from his nose and mouth. He began to convulse, in ten seconds he lay still.

_His death had taken less than a minute, and the wound had not even been fatal._

Alim looked at Leliana, she held the small dagger in one hand, he could see the strange gold substance on it.

"Oops," the sister said with a shrug.

Alistair looked shocked.

Alim was speechless.

Morrigan giggled.

Zevran grinned.

"Leliana my dear, that was the most vicious thing I have ever seen," he chuckled, "Will you marry me."

Leliana returned his smile with one of her own, wolfish and cruel.

The toady's bodyguards began to draw their weapons.

Alim raised his hands, lightning crackled on his fingertips.

"Take him and go," the elf ordered, "Or join him at the Maker's side, it makes little difference to us."

The guards seemed to consider this; they took one look at the dead messenger and made their choice.

They collected him, and left.

Alim sighed, that had been close.

"You mean we don't get to squish the fools," Shale whined, "Awww!"

Alim laughed.

"Don't worry Shale, we will find someone for you to squish soon," he promised.

"It is too kind," the golem said dryly.

The dwarven guard shook his head; he called for the gates to be opened.

"As I said Grey Wardens you may pass," he repeated, "But I don't know what help you will find. May the Ancestors aid you in your quest."

Alim thanked the man, and led the others through the huge doors.

"These are certainly large doors," Morrigan cackled, "Do you think the little men are compensating for something."

"That is not nice Morrigan," Leliana said with an amused smirk.

"No," the witch agreed, "but tis fun, you must agree."

Alim did his best to suppress his own laughter.

They needed to be respectful here.

They had to gain the dwarves support.

One way, or another.


	24. The Face in the Mirror

**Chapter 24: The Face in the Mirror**

Leliana had retired to her room within the warden quarters of Orzammar, but rest would not come.

No, she could not rest.

Shame, anger, and regret warred on her beautiful, yet exhausted, face.

"_Oops."_

Why had she done that?! That…that was not who she was anymore!

Leliana found herself staring into a mirror, looking into the tortured blue eyes of a stranger.

The former bard turned chantry sister, did not know the girl she saw there. She looked terrible, even though she had eaten and bathed. She still did not recognize the haggard girl that stared back at her with bags under her eyes.

She could still see the man lying there, choking to death on his own blood. The man's bodyguard looked up at her, their weapons nearly drawn.

She had smiled at them, her eyes filled with savage delight.

"Oops," she had said.

It was not the first time she had used that word. The first time had been after she had executed some low-level Marquis in Val Royeaux. Marjolaine had berated her for the body count she had caused.

Twenty guards dead, seven servants missing.

Marjolaine had turned to her then.

"What do you have to say for yourself my pretty thing," she had asked her. "So much needless death?"

Leliana had merely smiled, "Oops," she had said.

Marjolaine had laughed hard at that, she appreciated a good jest.

Though, her old master would not have appreciated what happened outside the gates of Orzammar.

Oh no, Marjolaine would not have been pleased at all.

_Oh my dear pretty thing, you let your mask slip, you let your new companions see who you truly are._

Leliana rubbed her cheek; she could almost feel the slap that her old master would have struck her with.

_You never let your true self show through my Leliana. __**NEVER!**_

The sister winced, it was strange, after almost two and a half years, she still feared Marjolaine's displeasure.

She had been tired; the visions had weakened her control. When that little toad had called her an Orlesian whore, she had ignored him, but then he made a grave mistake…

He kept insulting Alim.

Leliana had been angered, she did not know why, but the arrogant fool would not shut up. He had infuriated her, and so…so…

She had decided to shut him up…

Permanently.

She sighed heavily.

Maker save me, sweet Andraste grant me strength!

She fell to her knees before the bed in prayer. She…she needed to do something!

What had happened out there, that…that girl was dead, that Leliana was dead?

She prayed for the Maker to understand, to take away that part of her who enjoyed that poor soul's death.

She prayed that he would hear her prayer…

_That __**he**__…would understand._

IOI

Alistair had never been to Orzammar.

He had heard about it of course, the older wardens had spoken of it often, the vast halls, the high mountain ceilings, and the rivers of lava.

_They love us there kid, they see us as heroes for our stance against the darkspawn, we're almost nobles there._

And so they did, the respect of the dwarves showed through everywhere here, and then…then there was the city itself.

The others descriptions had not done the city justice; Orzammar was as beautiful as it was dangerous.

_Make that very, very, __**verrry**__ dangerous._

They had no more than entered the commons when they had gotten their first glimpse of how bad things had gotten in the city.

The throne currently had two contenders vying for its control. Prince Bhelen, who was the previous King's youngest son, and Lord Pyral Harrowmont, the king's friend and most trusted advisor.

The two noblemen, along with their entourages, had been having a… discussion in the commons, both men debating the rightful claim of the other. One of the city guards had made the mistake of trying to get between the two; he was apparently a Harrowmont supporter.

_One of Bhelen's supporters killed the man, burying his ax in the poor man's belly._

The guards had managed to separate the two groups, but it was clear that given the amount of bad blood in this city, winning the trust of one of them would not be easy.

Alim had suggested they find a place to stay. Tackle the city tomorrow once they had rested and cleared their heads.

They had ended up asking a young noble woman where they might find lodgings for the night.

The dwarf gave them a confused look; she asked them why Grey Wardens would not stay in the Warden Quarters upstairs.

Once Alim had explained that they were not aware of such a place's existence, the woman, Nerav of House Helmi agreed to show them the way.

The quarters surprised Alistair, he had expected something conservatively maintained, like the compound in Denerim. What they were was actually a fully functional estate, along with servants and a staff waiting to tend to the wardens' needs.

After almost four months of sleeping on the ground or in the rain, Alistair welcomed the thought of a warm bed, and hot meals.

Alim granted the others leave for the remainder of the evening, but cautioned everyone to be careful. Given the state of chaos in the city, anyone could be a possible enemy.

Not surprising, after the hard journey here, most of their companions decided to remain, and get some sleep. Only Zevran decided to go out and explore. Alim warned the assassin to mind his manners and not get into too much trouble.

The assassin had merely grinned, and left with an exaggerated bow.

As for Alim himself, he decided to hit up the larder. The thought of actual food after all the dried fair he had eaten lately seemed like it was Maker sent.

Everyone else retired to their rooms.

They would likely have a big day tomorrow.

IOI

Alistair had not been able to sleep, after what had happened outside the gates; he needed to speak with his elven brother.

They needed to talk about her.

As the former Templar entered the foyer, he found Shale glaring at one of the griffon statues that dotted the estate; the golem seemed bothered by them.

"Um…Shale," Alistair said curiously, "What are you doing?"

"I did not realize that the wardens worshipped birds," the golem replied, "All over this place, statues of these bizarre birds…hideous."

Alistair was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Um…these are griffons Shale," he informed their newest companion, "Not birds."

The golem turned to face him.

"Does the other warden not see, the golem asked, "Do these things not have feathered heads, do they not have wings, do they not have the vile little beaks?"

"Weeeell, yes but…"

"They are birds," Shale huffed angrily, "They are lucky they are just stone or I would crush them all, or at least I would banish them outside this place, let them see how it feels to have the rest of the winged vermin perch on them, and…and spread their foul droppings on them…ick!" the golem shuddered, "Can the other warden imagine, such a fate would be far worse than being crushed I think."

"I…um…I suppose so," Alistair shrugged, "I don't think I would like it myself."

"Indeed," Shale agreed, "I'm glad to see that the other warden agrees with me."

The golem returned to its glaring at the griffon statues. Alistair slipped away before it got any serious ideas about removing the statues, or crushing them into dust.

For the life of him he did not understand why Alim had invited the snarky, bird-fearing, golem?

He guessed that it took all kinds, and what was a little more crazy when they were surrounded by it every day?

He managed to track down Alim in one of the libraries; the elf was sitting near one of the fireplaces, reading, Bandit lay curled up asleep at his feet.

To be honest, Alistair had nearly not recognized his fellow warden. Alim had changed out of his hat and coat and had discarded the canary yellow circle robes. He was dressed simply in a white shirt and black trousers. If not for his sword still strapped to his belt, he might have been just another elven servant.

Not that there were elven servants in Orzammar of course, the dwarves had a servant class for that kind of thing.

"Hey Lim," he said jovially, "I was wondering if we could talk?"

The elf startled slightly, he had not heard his warden brother enter.

"Oh…hi Ali," he said putting down the book, "Is there something you need?"

"I have a couple of questions I want to run by you," he answered, "And…" he looked down at what Alim was reading, "The dwarven caste system, it must be a fascinating read?"

"It…it is curious," Alim replied, "These people are not what I expected. I was hoping to gain a better understanding of their politics, but between all the house honor, personal pride, not to mention good old fashion dwarven ambition, I'm surprise this city is still standing after all these centuries."

Alistair nodded, after what they had seen in the commons, he found himself wondering the same thing.

_How did a city function like this?_

"Any thoughts on how we are going to do this?" he asked the elf, "Gain the dwarves support I mean?"

Alim's ears twitched.

"Gus suggested that we might have to get involved in this election, but I don't like it," Alim frowned, "From what I saw out there today, I'm not sure if either of those men are worthy of taking the throne. Prince Bhelen's man murdered that guard in cold blood. I'm not sure that is the type of man we want."

"So you think we should support this Harrowmont then?"

I did not say that."

"Sooo, we…we are going to support Bhelen? I don't think we should do that Lim, not after…"

"I did not say that either," Alim grumbled, "This place is a mess Ali. I need more information before I can make a decision. Wardens are supposed to be neutral right? I can't just rush into this."

Alistair nodded, that made sense. Alim sighed heavily and rubbed his temples, the whole sorry mess was giving him a headache.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about, who I was going to support as King?"

"No," Alistair confessed, "Actually…I…I was hoping to speak with you about Leliana."

The elf frowned.

"What about Leliana?"

"I've been thinking about what you said back in Lothering," Alistair started pacing, he…he did not like the place his thoughts were going to over this, but he needed to get them off his chest.

"I said a lot of things in Lothering Ali," the elf shrugged, "So…which one do you mean?"

"That we couldn't trust Leliana that she might have been a spy left by Loghain or someone else. After… after watching her kill that man outside, I can't help but wonder if we made a mistake bringing her along."

Alim considered how best to respond, sure they had a lot of questions about Leliana, but she had proven herself to be a very skilled young woman. As far as her working for Loghain however, Alim did not buy that, the sister had had plenty of chances to betray them so far, and she had not taken them. Between the problems with the Dalish and Honnleath, she could have ended their mission at any time, yet she continued to help them. No, Alim did not think the sister was an enemy.

"She told me that she was a travelling minstrel in Orlais," Alistair continued, "since when do minstrels know about combat and poisons?"

"She could have learned combat to protect herself," Alim suggested, "As for the poison, I assumed she got it from Zevran."

"Zevran denied that, he said all the poisons he has on hand are accounted for. I suspect that Leliana either made it, or purchased it back in Lothering, either way, why did she not tell us?"

Again, a valid question, but once again it did not make her an enemy. If Leliana did have knowledge of poisons and toxins, she could have slipped it into their food at any time. They had not been watching her that closely after all. She likely had her reason for keeping secrets.

That did not mean that she was against them.

"She is not our enemy Ali."

"You saw what she did out on the steps," Alistair reminded him, "She killed that man, and all she could say for herself was…oops."

"I wanted to kill the creep, so did you, and so did Gus."

"But Leliana beat us to the punch, Lim…she…she looked like she almost enjoyed killing that man."

"Once again, that does not make her our enemy."

"But she isn't telling us everything," he reminded the elf.

"But that does not mean that she is lying to us either." Alim said.

"Lim."

"No Alistair," Alim growled, "Leliana has not given us any reason to doubt her. She has not harmed any of us, and she certainly hasn't lied to us. Does she have things in her life she would like to keep secret, probably? As long as those secrets don't become a problem I have no problem letting her keep them. A good little chantry boy such as yourself may not know what that is like, but I do, Leliana stays…and that is final."

Alistair did his best to suppress a shudder. Alim thought he had no secrets that was not true.

_In fact, __**his secret**__ was likely the biggest of all._

He wondered if now wasn't the time to come clean, but what could he say?

Speaking of secrets Lim, I just happen to be the bastard son of King Maric, yes thee King Maric. He had an affair with a servant girl and I was the result, but don't worry, I won't let it affect my work.

Alistair sighed; he wasn't ready to tell Alim about that, at least…

Not yet.

Despite the heated nature of their conversation, Alim actually found himself smiling.

"What," Alistair asked him.

"It is funny," the elf answered, "here I stand before a former temple defending a chantry sister. If **that** is not irony I don't know what is."

Alistair nodded a smile of his own creeping on his face.

It was true that Leliana had given them no reason to doubt her, maybe he was just making a mountain out of a mole hill, but that did not mean that he would stop watching her.

She had killed that man in one of the most painful ways possible, and all she could say for herself was…oops.

He was still having a hard time wrapping his head around it. If Leliana was not simply the former minstrel and chantry sister she claimed to be, then that left one very important question.

_Who was she really, and why had she come?_

He had a feeling that they would not like the answers.

Provided that anyone in their little party was left alive to hear them.


	25. The Proving

**Chapter 25: The Proving**

Fergus Cousland had never been to a Grand Proving in Orzammar before.

The last time he had been here, he had been about…thirteen, maybe fourteen; he had travelled with his Father Teyrn Bryce Cousland and King Maric. They had come as a show of support, a sign of unity between the dwarves of Orzammar and the Kingdom of Ferelden.

King Endrin had held a proving in their honor, but Father had forbidden young Fergus from attending, he had heard that some of the bouts in the proving were death matches.

He had no desire for his young son to see such brutality, at least not until he was older.

Young Fergus had been furious at the time; he had thought that he could handle it. Now looking back, he was grateful for his Father's discretion; it had allowed him to hold onto some of his innocence a little bit longer.

Innocence…that was now dead.

The wardens had chosen to fight in Lord Harrowmont's honor. Fergus approved of that, he…he did not like the thought of someone murdering their way to the crown.

If this Prince Bhelen had done everything that some of the dwarves claimed; he was unfit to rule.

_The world did not need another Arl Howe._

The proving arena was packed by the time they had arrived. Dwarves of every caste had packed the massive arena. The sounds of the crowd were a constant buzzing in their ears. The smell of oil and cooking food was everywhere. Vendors travelled the crowd, selling meet skewers and programs. Jesters and acrobats kept the crowd calm while the masses filed in.

The sights the sounds of the massive arena were incredible, even Fergus found himself intimidated. He could only imagine how Alim and Morrigan must have felt.

They had both grown up fairly isolated lives, she in the wilds, he in the tower, the crowd must have been very over whelming for the two mages.

Not that either would show it, they were both too proud for that.

Alim had brought their entire crew with him, even Bandit followed at his heels, Shale was the only one who did not join them, the golem felt that it might be tempted to squish someone if any dwarf offered to buy it again.

The dwarves still saw Shale as a piece of property.

_If they pushed the issue they would find out how wrong they were._

Alim went to locate the proving master; he needed to find out how to sign up. Zevran and Leliana accompanied him. While the elf signed up, it would be their job to speak with two of Harrowmont's fighters, Gwidon and Baizyl, they had apparently withdrawn, and Lord Harrowmont wanted to know why.

Fergus sighed, even here; they could not escape the pitfalls of dwarven politics.

Alistair had offered to fight on their behalf, but Alim refused him. The elf felt that his magic would give him the edge against dwarven opponents. They were resistant to magic sure, but lightning of flame would still burn them.

Leliana voiced her concern; some of these dwarves had been fighting all their lives. Alim might find himself outmatched.

"Have faith, sister," Alim had said dryly.

She frowned, clearly not interested in his jokes.

Fergus found that he agreed with her.

IOI

Leliana watched the proving with her heart in her throat.

Alim looked so small standing there alone in the center of the arena; his had pulled down spellbinder in one hand, his staff in the other.

She offered a quick prayer to the Maker for his safety.

Despite the way he treated her the most of the time, she found herself worried about their fearless leader. Alim was no picnic to be sure, he was rude, cold, and a bit of a smartass, but she could not shake the feeling that he was also necessary. Alim would be needed to stop the Blight.

Provided some dwarf did not stick a sword through his middle.

Before the proving had begun, she and Zevran had sought out the two Harrowmont fighters. One had been blackmailed by Bhelen to step down. The other had been told lies regarding Harrowmont that he had already given up the throne.

The two rogues reported to their leader.

Alim nodded, but decided to do nothing.

This surprised Leliana at first.

Zevran had laughed.

"Clever warden," he chuckled, "This way…the lord is beholden only to you, his one and only champion."

Alim smiled.

"When in dwarven lands, do as the dwarves do," he smirked.

The bard in Leliana saw the wisdom in this; it was manipulation at its finest.

A small smile played across her features.

_Alim was more cunning than she had realized._

Once the task with the fighters was done, the two rogues joined the others in the noble box reserved for visiting dignitaries. Alistair looked as nervous as Leliana felt. Bandit whimpered slightly, the Mabari wanted to be down fighting at its master's side.

Alim's first bout was with a young warrior named Seweryn. The boy was good, he was very good, but he had no experience fighting a mage, much less one armed with both a staff and a sword. The elf mage spun like a whirlwind, he broke through the man's defenses. Spellbinder tagged his chest, Alim electrified the blade.

Seweryn fell.

The fight had taken only a minute, maybe less.

"The winner is…The Grey Warden!" the proving master shouted.

The crowd went wild!

IOI

Alim's next bout was with a pair of twins, since they had been born at the same time they were allowed to enter as a single person.

Leliana did not see the fairness in that, but then she was no dwarf.

Myaja, the female warrior, and her rogue brother Lucjan tried to surround the elf. The rogue's blade left shallow cuts in Alim's side and arms. Myaja lunged in and out, waiting for her brother to weaken the mage.

Leliana gasped as Alim took a cut to the left leg.

The warrior charged.

Alim pushed his staff forward; Myaja tripped, and fell right on his blade.

The dwarf gasped, spellbinder had impaled her shoulder.

Alim grinned ferally, he cracked her in the head with his staff, she went down without a sound.

Alim summoned healing magic, his wounds closed.

He was sweating, but now undamaged. He grinned at the remaining sibling.

"Your turn now," he purred.

Lucjan, distracted by his sister's defeat was no match for Alim on his own.

He joined his sister in unconsciousness.

The elf had won again.

The crowd went mad.

Despite the brutality of the fight, Leliana found herself clapping excitedly.

Alim was safe!

IOI

The next fight was against Hanashan, a member of the legendary Silent Sisters. Alim had heard of them, warrior women who cut out their own tongues to show their devotion to their order.

Not his preferred date, but he would try anything once, he thought.

Hanashan attacked him with a great sword. She managed to disarm him of his staff. Their blades clanged loudly. Spellbinder held against dwarven steel. Alim tried to electrify the blade, but Hanashan was ready for him, she had watched his earlier bout.

She released her sword, and grabbed the elf with her bare hands.

She broke Alim's left arm.

Alim fell to his knees, he screamed in agony.

The silent sister raised her hand, ready to deliver a knockout blow.

Alim glared at her, his brown eyes glowed red with magic.

He touched her cheek.

"BITCH!" he spat.

He electrified his hand.

Hanashan screamed silently.

Alim did not kill her, but it came close.

She fell, her hair bursting into flame.

Her second ran out to tend to her.

Alim limped away holding his damaged arm.

Healing magic flowed, he was no healer, and his magic was weakening.

He hissed in pain as he tested the arm.

The bone was healed, but the arm was still sore.

He gasped, downing a flask of lyrium, he hated the stuff, but he had no choice.

The proving would continue.

IOI

Leliana fled her seat, she could not watch any longer.

Bandit was at her side, they made their way down to the fighters' room below the arena.

She found Alim sitting there, the elf looked exhausted, he was pale and sweating; she could see clearly how he was favoring his left arm.

It would be clear target for his next opponent.

"You can't continue," she informed him.

He glared at her.

"I can and I will sister," he said stubbornly.

"You're going to get yourself killed," she replied.

"I still have a little bit left," the elf said trying to smile.

She glared at him.

The proving master came over.

"You fight next, warden," he said, "This is paired combat, so you will need a second."

Alim nodded, he was about to ask her to run and fetch Alistair.

She did not give him the chance.

"We will be ready," she informed the master, "I am Leliana, the warden's second."

Alim's eyes widened.

She met his look with a cool gaze of her own.

He could not help it, he was shocked.

"You…you want to fight with me?" he asked.

"Since you insist on trying to kill yourself," she replied with a sniff, "How can I not?"

Alim snorted, the sister continued to surprise him.

He smiled at her.

"Are you ready to kick some dwarf ass, sister?" he asked.

Leliana gave him a wolfish smile.

"Always," she purred.

IOI

Alistair was shocked.

He saw Alim limp out onto the field again…and at his side…

Was that…that was Leliana!

Their opponents entered next, wojek…or wojik something and his second Velanz.

Alistair never could pronounce dwarven names.

When the gong sounded, Alim summoned a great wind against Velanz. Leliana broke off, firing arrows at Wojek. The dwarf tried to get in close with a huge maul.

Leliana pulled her short sword and dagger.

The warrior was good, but slow. Leliana peppered him with slashes from her blades, and kicks from her feet. Alim used the winds he had summoned to fling Velanz into his partner.

The dwarves fell into a tumble.

Leliana was on them in a second.

She put her knee into Wojek's throat; she applied pressure, choking him out.

Alim cracked Velanz in the face with his staff.

The battle ended, Alim looked at Leliana, her hair was wild from exertion, her blue eyes bright with excitement, she grinned, out of breath, but victorious.

_She is radiant,_ he thought, but quickly pushed away such thoughts.

_She was still a chantry sister, and he was still him._

He knew what they were like.

He could not forget.

**He would not forget!**

IOI

Morrigan snorted like an angry mare. The final round of the proving was about to begin.

And she…had been left out.

Alim, Alistair, Leliana, and Sten had been chosen to take part in this final four on four match.

She had expected Alim to choose her, she…she would have protected him during this fight, used her magic to show him that she was superior to the others.

She had needed this.

She needed to catch his eye, to reawaken his attraction for her.

_Mother's plan depended on it!_

The witch cursed silently.

Back in the wild, she had been sure Alim had been attracted to her. She had thought that she would be able to use that to her advantage. However that elven girl he met among the Dalish had changed all that. When she had died he had been left in mourning.

She…she had no experience with that; she did not know how to comfort a man, not in a way that would make him want her.

She sighed, this plan was not going the way she had wanted it to, not at all!

She could almost feel Flemeth's disapproving gaze on her right now.

_If one cannot be seduced dear girl, then try the other._

The young witch flinched.

Alistair…she…she and Alistair, the very thought of it made her feel ill.

It did not matter how handsome he was, how strong or brave he appeared…

He…he was Alistair.

She watched him fight; the dwarven warrior he faced tried to maneuver around him, while one of his fellows engaged him directly.

She whispered under her breath.

The horror spell stopped the potential back stabber in his tracks. Alistair dealt with the first warrior, and then swiftly dealt with the other.

He never even realized that she had cast, and neither had the dwarves.

The witch smiled to herself.

It had been two months since they had started their journey, and her powers had doubled in that time, not to mention that she had learned to wield them with subtlety.

She was growing stronger; soon she would be strong enough that even her dear sweet Mother would not be able to deny her what she wanted!

Her eyes fell on Alistair.

A hint of a cruel smile came to her lips, cruel…yet hungry.

He was…handsome. The armor he wore did little to hide his muscled torso and strong arms.

She felt a twinge of warmth in her lower belly.

Perhaps…if Alim was not open to her advances…perhaps…

This would not be so unpleasant after all.

IOI

The crowd roared; the sound became deafening as a new proving champion was crowned.

The crowd chanted a chant that shook the very stone itself.

WAR-DEN, WAR-DEN, WAR-DEN!

The proving master had to shout to be heard over it.

Alim and the others accepted their victory with grateful bows, informing the crowd that it had been for the greatness of Lord Harrowmont.

None would doubt the elf's loyalty to Harrowmont now, and that was the whole point.

The first phase of Alim's plan had been a success, if they were quick and cunning…

The second phase would go just as easy.

IOI

Leliana limped off the field of battle. Alistair supported her the best he could.

The bard gasped with each step.

The deep gash in her right thigh gushed hot blood.

The sister winced painfully, she felt light-headed.

She had gotten careless.

Piotin Aeducan had been all but defeated, his men were all unconscious. Alim demanded the dwarven commander's surrender.

He shrieked angrily, pulling a blade from his boot.

He tried to plunge it into the elf's heart.

Leliana kneed him hard in the groin.

The dwarf gasped, as he staggered back, he buried the blade into her leg.

Alim blasted him with lightning.

He did not get up again.

"Set her down here Ali," Alim ordered.

The former Templar complied, putting the injured sister down on the nearest stairs.

"I will be alright," she informed the elf, her eyes were cloudy with pain and blood loss.

"You will be after I have healed you," he said dismissively.

He reached for her leg.

She seized his hand.

"Non!" she spat, "I will be fine."

"Yes, he said angrily, "You need healing or you may bleed to death. So…**STAY STILL!"**

She fell silent.

His fingers brushed her wounded thigh, his touch warm on her bare skin.

Leliana felt her heart skip a beat.

She found herself staring intently into Alim's face.

The elf had lost his hat during the battle. She realized…she had never seen him without it. He had boyish features, but not unattractively so. His short brown hair was sticky with sweat. His ears were large for an elf, but they suited him, they were… in fact quite cute…adorable even. His pale skin did nothing to hide the concern in his features, but the most telling feature was his eyes.

_She found herself getting lost in those eyes._

They were liked deep brown pools, deep and soulful. Occasionally a spark of lightning would shimmer there.

His touch was so firm, yet it was gentle. She shivered slightly.

It had been a long time since she had allowed anyone to touch her bare thighs.

The last had been Marjolaine; her old master's touch had set her skin ablaze.

She felt magic touch her skin, it was both hot and cold at the same time. She felt the flesh knitting back together.

She swallowed hard, his touch, she…she felt a flicker of warmth in her belly.

He found himself staring into her excited blue eyes.

The elf cleared his throat.

"There," he said nervously, his large ears had turned pink; he searched around for his lost hat. Bandit brought it to his master; it had a bit of dog slobber on it, but was otherwise fine.

He slipped the hat back onto his head.

Leliana released the breath she had not realized she had been holding.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

_Was he talking to her?_

"Sister, are you all right?" he repeated, "Leliana?"

_Hearing him say her name woke her up._

"I…Yes…I'm…I'm fine," she coughed, turning away.

He removed his hand from her thigh.

She felt a surge of…_disappointment._

"Good," he responded. He turned to the others, "We have accomplished our first task. We shall now return to the warden quarters and rest, the next move is Lord Harrowmont's."

One by one the others followed.

Leliana was the last to come. Her eyes held Alim's back.

She felt strange, her heartbeat faster, the memory of his gentle touch.

Gus stopped to wait for her.

"Are you feeling all right, sister?" he asked.

Leliana nodded, _she was fine._

Her eyes never left the elf's back.

_She doubted that she would ever be the same again, but for now… she was fine._


	26. Restless

**Chapter 26: Restless**

Alim couldn't sleep.

No matter how much he tossed and turned, he simply could not get comfortable. His arm still throbbed, he had healed the bone sure, but the muscles were still enflamed.

Plus, there was the growling in his stomach. He had eaten shortly after the proving, but it seemed that he was hungry…again.

The elven mage cursed under his breath, Alistair had warned him about this of course, but that did not make it any easier to bear.

He wanted sleep, would likely need it to, but it seemed that he would not be getting any until he tended to the needs of his body.

He threw off the sheets, pulling on his shirt and trousers.

Bandit glanced up at him sleepily; the dog gave a big yawn and started to rise.

"I'm just heading to the larder, Bandit," he informed the dog, "You can stay here and rest if you want, I doubt anyone would try to attack me here."

The dog considered his options, he lay back down with a sleepy groan, it seemed that not even the chance of table scraps would be enough to tempt him this time.

Alim shook his head, dozy dog.

IOI

The Lights had been dimmed in the halls of the warden compound. They did not have night here in Orzammar, cut off from the sky as it were, but it was still the time of the dwarves sleep cycle.

Alim padded down the hallway, wishing he thought to grab a pair of socks or slippers. The stone was cold on his bare feet.

He was surprised to find Sten standing in the hallway, still armed and fully armored. The large Qunari was staring intently at a tapestry; it depicted some great battle in the wardens' past.

"Can't sleep?" Alim asked him.

"I was on watch," Sten informed him, "Even here, we are surrounded by enemies."

Alim nodded, it was true, he had not made any friends with the Prince by supporting Lord Harrowmont so openly.

_Tomorrow, he hoped to change that._

He came up to stand beside the massive warrior, Alim was short to most, but he was downright tiny next to the massive Qunari.

_Damn dark skinned giant!_

"Interesting," the Qunari said thoughtfully.

"What is?" Alim asked with a twitch of his ears.

"This is well done," Sten said, pointing to the tapestry, "The use of color to imply shade and shadow. It provides a sense of depth and contrast, I have not seen in other examples of art in your lands."

Alim was shocked.

He had no idea the Qunari liked art.

"Do…do you make art yourself?" Alim asked, it sounded ridiculous, he could not see the massive warrior as an artist.

"I don't see you sculpting clay Sten," he said with an amused smirk, "or drawing a brush across a canvass."

Sten snorted.

"The battlefield is my canvass, elf, the sword my brush," the Qunari bowed his head, he seemed almost…regretful.

"But I can appreciate beauty when I see it," he said thoughtfully.

Alim nodded, it seemed that their large friend was deeper than any of them thought.

"What of you?" Sten asked.

"Me?"

"Yes, do you care for anything, besides magic and steel?"

Alim considered this, he never saw himself as a lover of combat. Between his studies in the circle, and what he had gained from that ancient Stormbreaker's memories, he had become quite the battle mage.

_But was that all there was?_

The Qunari asked an interesting question.

_Was there anything but battle that interested him now?_

"My Mother taught me music," he informed the Qunari, "She…that was what she did at the Bann's estate. She was teaching me to play the flute when I was little."

"Do you still play?" Sten asked.

"No," Alim said flatly, "That was a long time ago, and there was no such place for it in the circle."

"A shame," the Qunari said.

Alim gave him a look.

"It is not weakness to seek out release beyond the fields of battle," Sten said sagely, "Find comfort in your duty to your people, but do not fear to seek out something for yourself as well. The Qun does not forbid such things, as long as it does not affect your duty."

Now Alim could not hide the shock on his face, it was too easy to see Sten as a walking, talking, battering ram.

It seemed that the old warrior knew more than he let on.

"Gus has relieved me for the night," Sten informed him, "I shall see you in the dawn."

Alim nodded, as the huge warrior returned to his room.

He still found himself surprised by that conversation, there was clearly more to Sten than what met the eye.

The growl in his stomach drew him on; an empty stomach did not go well with thought.

Food first, thought later.

He continued down the hall, nearly colliding with Shale. The golem was staring at one of the griffon statues.

_If Shale started spouting off about art now…I'm going to start laughing._

The golem continued to glare at the statue.

"Shale?" Alim asked.

"Did you hear it?" the golem asked.

"Hear what?"

"The sound of flapping wings, these…these winged vermin is pretending, I think they move when we are not watching them. I will catch them, it will mark my words. One flap, one squawk…and I will crush them into powder."

Alim was not sure how to respond to that.

He slipped past the golem, leaving it to its mission.

It seems that they were still full of crazy, and likely getting worse all the time.

Alim shook his head; couldn't his companions keep their crazy in check until he had his snack?

That would be nice.

IOI

It took Alim a bit to find the larder; he ended up asking one of the dwarven servants. It amazed him that they maintained the estate considering how few wardens were here right now.

He also found himself wondering how many were spies for Bhelen and Harrowmont.

Quite a few he would wager.

He was surprised to find both Alistair and Zevran waiting for him.

The elf snorted.

Did no one sleep anymore?

"Ah my dear warden," Zevran said bowing, "We were just having a late night meal, would you care to join us?"

Alim sat, he nodded in greetings. Alistair was helping himself to the bread and several slices of cheese. Zevran had chosen some left over nug fillet from dinner.

Alim scooped up some bread and a slice of cheese for himself.

He murmured a spell, flames licked from his fingers, melting the cheese, and toasting the bread.

The smell of food filled the kitchen with mouthwatering aromas.

Alistair was giving Alim a look.

"What?" the elf said.

"You should not use magic like that," he responded.

Alim rolled his eyes.

"Don't be such a Templar Ali," he snorted, "Magic is meant to serve, tonight, it serves me a warm snack."

Zevran snickered.

Alistair looked chagrined.

"Don't suppose you could heat mine?" he asked.

Alim grinned.

"Careful Ali," he snickered, "You might find yourself a thrall to the evil food cooking spell."

"Okay you made your point," the former Templar snorted, "You can be a real smart ass, you know that right Lim?"

"And I'm proud of that," he smirked, "Of course you are right; if the first Enchanter saw me casting that he would be very grumpy. Of Course, that is the advantage of me being here, and him being in Kinloch Hold."

For a while the three ate in silence, but then Alim caught Zevran watching him.

Yes?" he asked.

The Assassin smiled.

"I have heard many stories about the circles my dear warden," he said conversationally, "I was wondering if you could sate my curiosity?"

"I'm sure you have heard stories," Alim said dryly, "People love to talk about what we do locked in our circles, and no…it is not as racy as the perverts like to believe."

"A pity," Zevran replied.

"What about you Zevran," Alim asked, "Why are you up so late, you do not suffer from the same annoying hunger that Alistair and I have."

"I never sleep easily Warden," the assassin replied.

"Guilty conscience?" Alistair asked.

Alim shot his brother a look.

"Of course not dear Alistair," Zevran smirked, "I sleep the sleep of the just and righteous. My targets have all done something to deserve their fates; most of them…had it coming. No, I refer to the fact that I do not sleep well in a strange bed."

He grinned lecherously.

"Not alone anyway," he added.

Alim laughed.

"I doubt that Morrigan and Leliana would be interested Zevran," he said.

"I'm not picky about my pleasures warden, and I'm always willing to help someone…jump the border so to speak."

Alim frowned.

Zevran's smile widened.

"What about you Alistair," he asked, "You interested in jumping the border?"

"I've never been out of Ferelden, truth be told he answered.

Alim coughed, Ali clearly did not get Zev's meaning.

"What of you Alim," the assassin asked.

The elf mage smiled.

"Sorry Zevran, my door does not swing that way."

"A pity," the assassin replied.

"I just missed something didn't I?" Alistair asked.

"Be grateful," Alim answered him, popping the last of his bread into his mouth.

"Tis a dinner party and no one thought to invite me."

Alim turned at the sound of Morrigan's voice.

He nearly choked on his meal.

The witch was a vision, her long black hair was down, it fell silkily to the middle of her back, she wore nothing but a dwarven robe, and it left her legs bare almost to the lovely curve of her behind. She wore the robe open, showing off her flat belly and the swell of her bosom.

Alim blushed, and Zevran eyed the woman hungrily.

Alistair gave her cool look.

"We thought you did not wish to be disturbed."

The witch gave him a lazy, sexy smile.

Alim and Zev both felt their hormone kick into overdrive.

"Just a piece of fruit I think," the witch said considering.

She plucked an apple from the larder; her lips teased the skin of it before taking her first bite.

Alim felt his throat go dry.

"Never thought I would ever want to be an apple," Zev mumbled.

Alim nodded dumbly.

"Good evening," the witch smirked; she sauntered lazily out of the room.

Alim finally found his breath.

"Good riddance," Alistair said coldly.

Alim's eyes widened.

"Oh come on Ali!" he said loudly, "Don't tell me that you did not see that!? Don't tell me that you did not find that… the least bit arousing?"

"See what?" the former Templar said.

Both elves sighed, was he really so clueless.

"Our dear Morrigan was peacocking for you Alistair," Zev chuckled, "I think she desires someone to keep her warm at night. I would say…that you have caught her eye."

Alistair looked at the two elves like they had both gone mad.

"This…this is Morrigan we are talking about," he said, "You both remember that right, the complete and utter bitch?"

"If she is dear Alistair," Zev smirked, "I would say that this particular bitch…is in heat. You Fereldan's know about such things, yes?"

"I would," Alim said dryly, "Being a kennel master's son did have some advantages."

Alistair blushed.

"She…I…we could never do that! I could never do that, not with her anyway."

"I think you protest too much Alistair," Alim smirked, "She has been watching you since we left the wilds."

"Looking to turn me into a toad maybe," the former Templar responded, his voice unusually high.

Zevran chuckled.

"Think back to your previous lovers my dear Alistair," he said, "Did they not also play games to get your attention?"

And the mention of previous lovers, Alistair turned crimson.

"Ali?" Alim asked.

"I got to go," he said quickly, "Have a goodnight everyone."

"Ali?"

The former Templar fled without another word.

Alim's ears twitched with confusion.

What had that been about?

"What was that about?" Alim asked Zevran.

The assassin shrugged.

"You know what this means," he asked the elven mage.

Alim shrugged.

"More food for us of course," Zevran grinned.

Alim laughed.

He had learned one thing since joining the order.

More food…was always a good thing.


	27. Kings and Pawns

**Chapter 27: Kings and Pawns**

Alim had a lot of hard choices ahead of him.

Not that that was any surprise of course, one of the first lessons that Irving had taught him was that being a mage meant that you had to try and see all the angles.

_Our lives are not easy lad, even here in the circle. To thrive here, much less survive, you must be prepared to do what is necessary. Even if that means doing something your conscience might not agree with. _

The First Enchanter's words had merit, even here in Orzammar.

That was where Alim found himself now, literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Wardens were supposed to be neutral, but…the treaty demanded that the dwarves have a new king. They could continue to support Harrowmont true, but what if Bhelen managed to win the throne despite their help? What if he decided not to aid the wardens because it did not serve his interests?

_**That**__…could not be allowed._

Alim did not like the idea of playing both sides against the middle. It was risky, if the dwarves found out he could end up alienating both factions, but at the same time, he could not afford not to try either.

They needed the support of the dwarves, whoever sat on the throne.

He and Zevran had discussed this at great length last night. The assassin agreed that they needed to gain the support of both factions, so that whoever won the throne, the possibility of their gaining the armies of Orzammar was assured.

That meant helping Bhelen on the sly, it would be dangerous and difficult, but it could be done.

Alim hated the very idea of it. It felt like…it felt like he was justifying everything that the Templars had ever said about him. Greagoir seemed to have it in for him since his first day in the circle…

_The boy is too powerful Irving. He will grow only more powerful as the years go on, and we don't know enough about his magical abilities to hold him in check! For the good of Thedas, he should be made tranquil. That way…he will never be a threat to himself or others. _

The Knight-Commander did not know that he had heard that conversation. Fortunately, Irving was not as prone to panic as Greagoir. He took Alim as his apprentice, trained him in the art. Alim still had a temper sure, but Irving proved that the he could control himself. Power did not make him inherently evil!

What he was doing here…seemed to prove otherwise.

_Knock it off,_ he thought to himself_, this needs to be done, lives are at stake. You can confess your sins after the Archdemon lays dead._

That was all that mattered now he supposed, ending the Blight, and saving Ferelden.

So…he would play the dwarves against each other.

It also meant that the fewer of their companions that knew about this the better. Alim intended to keep this to himself, so if the blade did fall on their heads, it would be on him alone. Alistair would still have a chance of making peace with the winner.

This meant that Alistair had to be kept out of this plan, for his own good. Sten and Gus were out too; their sense of honor would likely get in the way. Morrigan would likely jump on board, her pragmatism would be served by helping them with this, Alim did not see her having moral qualms about this. Shale did not care about such things, so, it would likely help too.

That left only Leliana, at first Alim had wanted to leave her out as well, but Zevran disagreed. Considering how the sister acted during the business with the two Harrowmont fighters, he felt that she would see things their way.

Though the assassin did find that he was curious about her background, he inquired about how much Alim knew about that.

The elven mage had to admit, there really was not that much to say. She had been a lay sister in the Chantry of Lothering. She joined them because she thought that they were doing the Maker's work.

"Ah…but who was she before that?" Zevran asked, "Most women in the chantry do not possess the types of skills that our Leliana does."

Alim only knew what he had heard from Alistair, Leliana had been a travelling minstrel in Orlais before joining the chantry.

Zevran smiled.

"A travelling minstrel you say," the elf said scratching his chin, "Interesting."

_Something in his fellow elf's voice set off alarm bells._

"You do not believe her?" Alim asked, "I don't think she has been lying to us."

"Nor do I," the assassin agreed, "But she is not telling us the whole truth either," Zev sat back; he seemed to be considering his words carefully.

"Tell me warden," he said quietly, "Have you ever heard of the Orlesian bards?"

The name seemed simple enough, but Alim did not understand why Zevran sounded so smug when he said it.

"That is just another name for minstrel isn't it?"

"Not in Orlais," the assassin grinned, "In Orlais, bards serve as pieces in what the nobles cause the great game."

"What kind of game?"

"Power games of course," Zevran replied, "on the surface, bards are just singers, actors, and storytellers, but in secret they are skilled agents. Some might call them spies; they serve noble patrons, through theft, seduction, and murder."

Alim's ears twitched, he…he had never heard of this before, his training in the tower involved magic, and little else.

"So they are like the crows?" he asked.

"Bards are not exclusively assassins," Zevran answered, "But even the Crows have a healthy respect for the bards of Orlais. They are quite skilled."

Alim considered what Zevran had told him.

Was it possible?

_He had feared that Loghain might have left a spy behind in Lothering. Had Leliana been hired to spy on them, to sabotage their mission?_

That did not seem to make sense; Leliana had been given ample opportunities to end them before now. She had not acted on any of them.

_But…still…?_

The elven mage felt his temper flare, had she been playing them from the very beginning?!

The elf mage frowned.

"I think I need to have a word with our sister tomorrow," he said flatly.

"That may be wise my dear warden," Zevran agreed, "That maybe wise indeed."

IOI

Leliana had not risen early that morning, after the events of the proving, Alim decided to let his companions have a day of rest.

Leliana used that time to have the first good night sleep she had since the visions had started shortly before the battle of Ostagar.

The bed was soft, and allowed her to slip quickly into a restful slumber. She moaned softly as she dreamt.

For the first time in months, they were good dreams.

IOI

_She crept through dark places, her familiar armor creaked softly as she moved, a dagger gripped firmly in her hand._

_The wind tussled her long red hair. She had pulled it into a ponytail for her job tonight, much as she had done every night in Orlais._

_As she had done during her time with Marjolaine._

_None of this felt strange to her, as with all dreams, it was comforting...familiar._

_She was on the hunt, yet…for the life of her she could not remember who._

_She moved to peek around a corner…_

_Slender fingers seized her wrist; they pulled her out of hiding._

_She prepared to attack, to make this person pay for grabbing a bard!_

_He pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips fell upon hers._

_Her eyes widened with surprise._

_The kiss…oh sweet Maker…the kiss._

_The kiss was not the kiss of a man trying to force himself upon her. It was soft, shy, and attentive. It felt like…the greeting of an old lover, one who had been parted sweetly, but had now returned._

_Heat suffused her body._

_The kiss broke; Leliana found herself staring into dark brown soulful eyes._

_Her passions fired._

_She grasped him hungrily, pulling him close, she moaned softly, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, the kiss became more playful, teasing, a dance all its own._

_She fell back._

_Landing not on hard stone, but warm silk and fur blankets, she groaned as the man's fingers explored her bare skin._

_Maker save me, she thought, __**I'm sooo hot!**_

_His lips left hers; they ran down her neck, his tongue explored her collar bone._

_She gasped in delight!_

_Her fingers traced his short spiky brown hair; they toyed with his long elven ears. She…_

_Alim!_

Leliana awoke; she sat up with a gasp. For a moment…she felt confused…that…that had not felt like one of her visions…it…it…was…

_She…Maker…that was…oh!_

A hint of a smile played at her lips.

She flopped back onto the bed.

Maker…was she…was she dreaming about…Alim?

_Alim was the last person she should be feeling any attraction for._

It was preposterous, clearly when he had healed her during the proving she had started reading more into his touch then was there.

A pleasant dream to be sure…fun…but likely all it would ever be…just a dream.

She rose from her bed, the clock at the side of the bed said it was nearly afternoon. The others had not woken her, she was surprised, but then again, Alim had said this was to be a day of rest, before the real work could begin.

She hunted for her shift. The rooms down here were warm, heated through lava vents, the warmth had caused her to sleep in just her breast band and smalls.

Not that the heat had been a problem, that dream had made her feel hot enough.

Chuckling to herself, she went to grab her shift.

The door to her room flew open.

"BANDIT NO!" a familiar voice cried out.

She looked up to see the Mabari and a familiar elf standing there. His brown eyes wide, taking in the view of her.

"ALIM!" Leliana squealed, she leaped into bed pulling the covers around herself, color suffused her cheeks.

Alim spun, his cheeks and ears had gone beet red.

"Maker…Sister I am sorry," he stuttered, "Bandit…he…I told him we were coming to see you, and he…bad dog…very bad dog!"

The Mabari whimpered; he did not like being yelled at.

Panic and embarrassment filled the air.

Leliana took it upon herself to diffuse the situation.

"It…it is okay," she said pulling the covers farther up. She was trying very hard not to think about the dream, especially now, given her state of undress.

_Fingers warm on her skin, lips at her neck and collar bone._

She cursed slightly, trying to will those thoughts away.

'You have my apologies," Alim said trying hard not to stare, but part of him could not help himself, his eyes found their way to her cream colored back, the gentle curve of it, and…

Alim frowned, his ears lowered slightly in anger.

Leliana's blush darkened; she knew what he was looking at.

"Who did that?" he asked coldly.

She winced, "It…it is nothing," she said.

"By the void it is," he growled, "What bastard did that to you?!"

She winced at the harshness of his words.

He of course…was referring to the scars.

She had looked at them in the mirror before, and knew them intimately.

Her last mission in Marjolaine's employ had ended badly. Marjolaine had had her captured, given over to her lover, the sadistic Raleigh. The man had watched hungrily as his servants applied a heated blade to the small of her back. It had been the start of her agony, but only the start.

The final insult had been a branding iron.

_You have interfered in my business you Orlesian bitch; I will see that you bear the mark of that._

He had branded the symbol of his family into the back of her right shoulder.

**Branded her, like a piece of livestock!**

_You traded me to that brute, for what, a few coins in your purse?!_

_You would have betrayed me eventually my pretty thing. I simply decided…to do it first._

_We are the same._

Those words still haunted her, after almost three years!

She had often looked at that symbol, and felt only icy rage, rage…and shame.

She bowed her head.

"Why would anyone do that to someone?" Alim asked, bringing her back to the present.

She sighed heavily.

"It is an old wound, warden;" she said sadly, "The one who caused it is long dead."

That seemed to mollify the elf slightly.

"Good," he said coldly, "I hope it hurt."

"It did," she said softly.

IOI

Alim had come to confront Leliana about her past, but…seeing her…seeing what someone had dared do to this beautiful woman.

All other concerns went away.

**She is still a chantry sister,** the old anger reminded him.

"_She has helped us, _his conscience chimed in.

**She is not to be trusted; she is a sister and likely a spy!**

_She has done nothing to warrant our hatred._

**She is from the chantry that is enough!**

_Damn it, she is not the woman who ripped us away from Mother, For Maker's sake, get off your damn high horse!_

**She knows nothing of love, of caring for others!**

_Is that what you think…Zathrian?_

The realization struck him like a fist.

No, he…he was nothing like that bastard of a keeper, that treacherous flat ear. His hate, his reasons were justified.

_I'm sure Zathrian felt the same, and his hate got Belle killed._

Alim felt sick.

Had…had he been blaming her for what happened back then?

Had he not been blaming every sister since that day?

Leliana, Lily, and so many others, all had felt his scorn. He had felt so justified.

He…oh Maker, he felt like a hypocrite!

"Warden," Leliana asked her voice thick with concern, "Alim?"

He could not bear to look at her, her shame for those scars were nothing like he felt now.

"I…I'm fine," he whispered, "I…I needed to speak with you, I have a plan, I'll…I'll let you get dressed first. Come, Bandit."

The Mabari followed after him.

Alim closed the door.

The elven mage sighed, he…he had been such a fool. He had let Zevran and his old hatred get the better of him.

Was Leliana more than what she said, probably, that did not make her an enemy.

So…he would watch, if he was wrong, he would deal with the problem, but for now…now…

He needed to start over with her, Zathrian was dead, he had gone too far, it had been too late for him.

_It was not too late for Alim Surana._

IOI

Leliana invited him back in a few minutes later, now dressed in a light shirt and leggings. Bandit whimpered as he approached her, licking her hand for forgiveness.

She smiled and scratched his ears.

He lay down next to her contented.

Alim seemed; he seemed nervous around her now, like he had come to a decision that was bothering him.

She did what she had done after Belle had died, she listened.

It seemed to help.

He explained his plan to her, to get both Harrowmont and Bhelen on their side. She listened attentively as he outlined what he hoped to accomplish.

Unconsciously, her hand went to a forelock of her red hair, she twirled it around one finger as he spoke, much as she had done back when she had been Marjolaine's apprentice.

Careful my pretty thing, Marjolaine had laughed, you will make yourself bald.

She pulled her finger away, feeling ashamed of the old gesture.

It seemed that she had not eliminated all of her old habits from her bardic days.

When Alim finished, he looked at her, waiting for her opinion.

"Well?" he asked.

She sighed.

"I think we have no other option," she agreed, "The Blight must be stopped, no? We will have to tread lightly, and be mindful, but I think your plan is the best one we can come up with."

"The moral thing does not bother you?" he asked.

"Of course it does," she shrugged, "But…as you said, we have no other options. In Orlais we have a saying; _you are either a king or a pawn_. To stop the Blight, the dwarves must see you as a king, pawns have a tendency of being discarded when they become…inconvenient. We must make sure the dwarves do not see us as expendable. Besides, if they were in our place, they would do the exact same thing. Dwarven politics are vicious warden, we must respond in kind."

Alim nodded, her words were wise, ruthless, but wise.

"You make it sound like it is all a game," he said thoughtfully.

"It is the great game," she shrugged, "And we can't afford to lose."

_The great game._

Zevran's warnings came back to Alim's mind, but he ignored them for now.

_He would not see Leliana as an enemy, until she had proven herself otherwise._

The look he gave her made her feel…uncomfortable.

"Is there anything else?" she asked.

"Yes," he said rising and starting to pace, he needed to…he had to…

Maker…this was not easy.

"I…" he sighed, "I want to start over…with you."

She gave him a curious look.

"I have been unkind to you," he admitted, "I have been mean spirited, overcritical, and a little prick," his ears drooped in shame, "I wanted to know that I have come to value your skills and input. I…I am sorry for the way I have treated you up to this point. I hope that we can start again sis…I mean…Leliana."

The woman smiled.

"I have not blamed you warden," she said, "You have had a lot thrown at you in a very short time."

"Never the less, I have been wrong." He repeated.

"Does this mean that I can convert you to the Maker now?" She asked.

Alim's eyes widened, "What?!"

Leliana giggled, "I'm kidding warden…I mean Alim."

The elf paused, but finally he chuckled.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"That remains to be seen," she replied.

He left her then, chuckling.

She followed him with her eyes.

She felt…that…that had been unexpected.

She was not sure exactly what had happened, but…

She thought that it was a good thing.

A fresh start with Alim.

She liked the sound of that.


	28. Noble Meetings

**Chapter 28: Noble Meetings**

Three days later, the wardens received an invitation from Lord Harrowmont to visit his estate. It might have seemed like a long time, but much had happened in Orzammar.

The day after the proving the assembly had been called back to session, Harrowmont's supporters had tried to force another vote for the crown. They used the Grey Wardens' victory as proof of the righteousness of their cause.

Bhelen's supporters countered. They said that Harrowmont had needed to turn to surfacers to win that proving, and therefore he was not worthy of the crown.

The debate went on for two days, and ended with the same deadlock as before.

Harrowmont must have recognized that he needed to do something more.

The morning of the third day, his second stood outside the warden compound, invitation in hand.

_The lord wanted to talk._

Alim had been busy during this time. The proving and its aftermath had shown him he had two great weaknesses.

He intended to remove those.

He spoke with Alistair; he wanted the former Templar to train him in the use of a sword. The memories the elf had gained from the ancient stormbreaker were useful, but they were not the same as formal training. Alim used spellbinder like a club, he needed to use it like the sword it was.

Alistair agreed to help, provided that Alim did not get angry and turn him into a toad at some point.

The elf promised, not that he could have done that anyway, but still…it was amusing that his warden brother thought that he could.

The second thing he required was training in how to speak to the nobles without alienating them. Alim recognized that he could be combative at times, and a smartass. Nobles would not likely take kindly to either of those traits.

To that end, he spoke with Leliana. She had claimed to have had dealing with the nobles of Orlais during her travelling days; she thought that it was possible to coach Alim up to the level that he could speak without offending anyone.

It would be a bit of work, Leliana agreed, but it could be done.

Every morning, during breakfast, Alim and Leliana would practice; he would be himself, and she…Lord Harrowmont. She played the dwarven lord as one of the most pompous, arrogant, and self-righteous bastards that she could.

The first day of their training had gone poorly, with Alim ending up tongue tied by the insulted false Harrowmont, tongue tied and ordered out of his estate.

Zevran and Morrigan had both been amused by his failure.

Alim glared at them and asked Leliana to start again.

He did not give up, he refused to give up, they were doing this so that he did not say the wrong thing around the dwarf lord.

_He would not stop until they had gotten this right!_

By the morning that Harrowmont's emissary had arrived, the elf felt he was ready.

They were going to speak with Lord Harrowmont.

IOI

"So you see, Your Lordship," Alim began, "supporting the treaty is in the best interests of everyone."

Leliana frowned.

"I do not see how this benefits me warden," she said haughtily, "The darkspawn have failed to conquer us for centuries. Why should we involve ourselves in a surface war?"

"Self-preservation of course," the elf responded, "If the darkspawn destroy Ferelden, you will have a war on two fronts, above and below, you can't want that?"

"What I want warden," she replied, "Is to lead my people into the future. You clearly have no interest in us or our problems. Our throne is still in dispute.

Alim smiled.

"I support King Endrin's wishes in this matter, Your Lordship." He answered.

The sister smiled.

"Well maneuvered, Alim," she said as herself, "Bringing in the old king, makes you seem like you care about traditions here in Orzammar."

"Thanks," he said, his ears twitched with amusement, "Maker's breath, I swear Leliana, if Harrowmont is as arrogant a prig as you play him, I'm going to be hard pressed not to throttle him."

The sister giggled.

"I have been playing his arrogant to the extreme Alim," she reminded him, "Better you go in prepared for the worst, that way…you shall be ready, should it occur."

The warden mage nodded that made perfect sense.

Now, came time for her orders, she and Morrigan would not be accompanying the others to the Harrowmont estate.

_He had another mission in mind for them._

"After my meeting with Harrowmont," he informed her, "I will be sending Bandit to you with a note. It will include everything that the dwarven lord has told us. You are to track down Bhelen's second, this Vartag Gavorn in the Assembly and convince him that our interest in working with the prince is genuine."

Leliana nodded.

"Morrigan has agreed to use her magic to cloak until you reach the assembly; I don't want any of Harrowmont's spies hearing about this."

"I could do this myself, minus the magic" she offered, "I can avoid being seen when I choose to, Morrigan is not the most subtle of our companions."

Again Alim heard Zevran's warning about Leliana being some kind of spy, but if she was, it was likely that their mutual needs were aligned, at least for the time being.

He would continue to test her, and see how far she would go.

He had warned Morrigan of his suspicions, she had promised to watch Leliana.

That was the best that he could do.

Not that the sister would not need Morrigan's help if this plan went to the void, she most certainly would.

"No, she isn't our most subtle," he agreed, "but, she has the power to get the two of you out of trouble if it comes to that." Alim said frowning.

"If Gavorn decided to punish the wardens by hurting you and Morrigan, her magic will be useful."

Again Leliana nodded.

"Alistair and I are counting on you," he reminded her.

The red head blushed.

"You honor me," she said shyly.

"I endanger you, I know that," he said seriously, "But you have shown that you have the skill to get what we need accomplished."

"It will be done," she promised, heading for the door, she paused only for a second to give Bandit a scratch behind the ears.

The Mabari panted happily.

Alim shifted, he should just let her go, but…no…he needed to say something.

"Leliana?" he said.

She turned.

"Maker watch over you," he said.

His words touched her.

"And over you Alim," she said smiling.

IOI

An hour later, Alim stood in Harrowmont's study, the dwarven lord had agreed to meet with them in private.

He had another task for them.

Apparently, Orzammar had been plagued for months by an ambitious criminal gang called the carta. Since the death of King Endrin, the criminals had become more brazen, openly striking at businessmen in the commons.

Harrowmont wished the wardens to deal with Jarvia, the leader of the Carta, with her gone; he could ride the popular support of this victory to the throne.

Zevran listened closely, as the warden elf, and the lord talked. He chuckled, oh how many of the phrases that the beautiful Leliana had drilled into the elf came into play here.

Alim came across as a skilled diplomat; Harrowmont was nowhere near the bastard that Leliana played him up to be. He respected the grey wardens, and appeared to be a very conservative dwarf. He stressed his desires to preserve the traditions of their people.

_Of course…he still wished to use Alim and Alistair as his errand boys._

The assassin snorted.

_Was Harrowmont really that different from this Prince Bhelen?_

He claimed that he had no interest in the throne, that this was all a favor to his late friend the King.

Zevran did not buy it.

He had handled many contracts for the crows over the years, and he had never once met a noble who would jump at the chance to further his own agenda.

No, Harrowmont had to have his own angle in this?

Alim shook the dwarf lord's hand; he agreed to deal with this Carta for him.

Harrowmont offered them a chance to stay for midday meal. The wardens accepted, of course, Alim went up to his faithful hound, and asked him to return to the warden compound.

He would bring the dog a treat later.

Zevran smirked, that was the code phrase he had given Bandit this morning, the phrase that meant that he should seek out Leliana.

The assassin did not know how the dog was smart enough to obey, but Alim assured him that he was.

Bandit padded out of the estate, a note for Leliana hidden in his collar.

Zevran felt a surge of excitement.

Ah, the thrill of living on the edge, playing two powerful lords against the other, and all for the good of all Ferelden. Death and danger awaited around every turn.

The assassin could not help, but smile.

The wardens did know how to make a crow feel at home.

IOI

Leliana and Morrigan waited outside the Assembly, the witch paced already bored with their mission.

Leliana was the picture of calm; a bard had to know when to strike, and when to wait.

This…was the time to wait.

"Where is the fool mongrel," the witch spat, "Tis annoying to stand out here doing nothing?"

Leliana shrugged, she actually liked the quite, seeing all the dwarves going about their business.

It reminded her a bit of the cloister.

Not that she intended to waste her time here, now was the perfect opportunity to get to know their resident witch.

The sister intended to make the best of that.

"They say your Mother is Flemeth, a witch of the Korcari wilds, is this true?"

Morrigan glared at her.

"They also say that washing your hair in the winter makes you catch cold in the head," she snorted, "and we both know that this is not true, but…sometimes…they are right…and they are right in this."

Leliana shifted where she sat, she had heard many tales of Flemeth growing up, they still chilled her.

"So…um…you have heard all the tales of…"

"Of course," Morrigan sighed, "You think that my mother would let me go without telling me all the tales of her youth."

Here at least the two women had common ground.

At least…Leliana hoped they did.

"My Mother told me stories as well; it was through her that I gained my love of the old tales."

Morrigan sighed.

"My Mother's stories curdled my blood and haunted my dreams," the witch confessed, "No little girl wants to hear of the wilder men her Mother took to her bed, how she used them until they were spent, then killed them. No little girl wants to hear how this…this will be expected of her…when she comes of age."

Leliana shivered, she was not sure how to respond to that.

"Oh…um…I see."

"No," Morrigan said, "You really don't. I…ah…Alim's beast is here."

Leliana smiled as Bandit bounded up beside her, barking happily.

He rose up on his hind legs trying to lick Morrigan. She backed away, raising her staff.

"Away from me, mongrel," she hissed.

Bandit whimpered sadly.

"I think you hurt his feeling Morrigan," Leliana said, trying to comfort the dog.

"Ohh," she said haughtily, "the beast is just playing for sympathy, I know, I do it too."

Shaking her head, the sister removed Alim's note from the dog's collar.

"We have what we need," she informed the witch, let us go and speak to Vartag Gavorn."

IOI

The two women found Vartag Gavorn in the Assembly, the Prince's second was still trying to rally support for his Lord. He was a stocky beardless dwarf, he spoke with the oily shrewdness of a skilled con man, his eyes were careful and cruel.

He recognized the two women immediately.

He scowled at them both.

"You have a lot of nerve coming to speak with me," he growled.

"Greetings Lord Gavorn," Leliana said with an exaggerated bow, "Warden Commander Alim sends his warmest regards to your Prince."

Gavorn snorted.

"Considering how he came out against the Prince in the proving, I doubt that greatly."

Morrigan sneered at the dwarf.

"Do not be a fool, dwarf," she spat, "Alim Surana is a powerful mage, and leader of the Grey Wardens of all of Ferelden. The wise cultivate his favor. Should your prince wish to achieve his desires, t'would be best if you were wise as well."

Gavorn considered what the witch had said; there was nothing to be lost by hearing the two women out.

"A surprising offer," he said in an oily voice, "Considering his open support of House Harrowmont."

"And now he is in the Lord's good graces," Leliana reminded him, "Unlike your other spies."

That…got Gavorn's attention.

"The warden will supply us with information?"

Leliana flashed him a cruel smile, she felt dirty doing this, but was excited as well.

_She had not had this much fun this her days with Marjolaine._

She hated that side of herself, but could not deny it either.

_No matter what she did, no matter where she went?_

_She would always be…__**a bard.**_

"The warden will do whatever is necessary to defeat the Blight," she informed Gavorn, "As long as your master understands that, that he understands that Alim is not some pawn to be used, and then discarded. He is willing to reward your prince with what he desires."

Gavorn grinned.

"Very well My Ladies, you have my attention," he purred cruelly, "What sort of information does the warden offer.

Leliana showed Vartag Gavorn Alim's note.

The Prince's second smiled.

This…gave him an idea.


	29. In Dust

**Chapter 29: In Dust…**

Dust Town.

Harrowmont had described it to Alim. A place for the lawless, where only the casteless and criminals lived. It was in this place that the wardens and their allies would find the Carta.

"A place that should not exist," Harrowmont had said, "the casteless should have had the decency not to reproduce centuries ago."

_Such a warm opinion for this city's future king,_ Alim had thought.

The noble's opinion sickened the elf. People could no more help being born than they could stop the sun from setting. They should not be condemned to live in a slum because something their great-great grandparents did…

Slum was not a powerful enough word in Alim's eyes however.

The elven warden wrinkled his nose; calling this place a slum did not do it justice. The crumbling structures, the garbage and waste in the corners of the streets. Casteless slept in doorways or glared menacingly at the approaching wardens and their allies.

They had even been attacked once, a group of desperate toughs trying to take their gear. Alim had zapped one with lightning and Shale had crushed another. The survivors fled before any more of them met their end.

The elven mage cursed, he had no desire to harm these people!

He did not blame them, if he lived in such a place, he would likely jump at any situation to better his situation.

Still he could not believe that a place like Dust Town could exist in the same world as modern Orzammar. It was almost like this was an entirely different city. The towering structures of Orzammar might as well have been in another country.

Of course it should not have been surprising, he realized, the humans kept his people boxed in inside their Alienages after all.

Alim had little memory of the Alienage himself; he had been a toddler when his family had moved to Lothering.

_Perhaps…that was for the best._

Alim warned Bandit to stay close to him; some of the casteless were eyeing his war hound with hungry looks. The dog whimpered nervously, or growled when one of the dwarves came too close.

Alim had no intention of seeing his loyal war dog becoming someone's meal.

Alistair, Gus, and Leliana looked like they were going to be sick; the squalor around them clearly did not sit well with their sensibilities. Morrigan, Zevran, and Sten seemed indifferent to the casteless' plight, not that that surprised him. The three had likely seen worse things in their own environments.

Shale was pouting again.

"How about we smash every building here, until someone tells us where we can find this Jarvia midget," the golem suggested.

'I think these people have suffered enough Shale," Alim commented, "We will not contribute to it."

"Aww," the golem snorted, "It is no fun!'

Alim shook his head; they really needed to find the Carta base.

Shale needed to get some of that aggression worked out.

They had spent the afternoon talking with merchants in the commons. The Carta had been shaking them down for coin for weeks, sadly no one knew anything about Jarvia, either that or they were too scared of the crime boss to say anything.

So they had come to search for the base itself.

Hopefully someone here knew something…

…And would be brave enough to talk.

IOI

The dwarf's name was Zerlinda, once she had been a member of the mining caste, but she had been banished here to dust town for having a child with a casteless boy.

Leliana was having little success convincing her to speak with them. The young woman needed coin to feed her baby, but she was terrified what the Carta would do to her if they found out she had talked.

Alim approached the two women.

"Please," the dwarven woman begged, "You cannot expect me to answer, my son…the Carta will…"

Alim sighed heavily; his patience was starting to wear thin.

"I understand your fear," Alim said, "But why stay where the Carta can reach you, why don't you leave."

"Where would I go," the dwarven girl asked, "My family will not have me back, and no one would hire someone with a casteless child?"

Leliana gave the girl a sad look. She understood what it was to be trapped, to feel like you had nowhere else to turn.

In her case, faith had saved her, for Zerlinda, her skills likely would.

"Why not go to the surface," the red head asked, "I'm certain there would be humans interested in hiring a skilled dwarven miner."

Zerlinda considered what she had said.

"I…I have never been to the surface before," she confessed, "I was not sure if it would be safe, but I…I hear there is no caste system there, is that true?"

"That is true," Alim nodded, "Your life would not be easy," he warned her, "But with hard work, a skilled woman such as yourself could make a life for herself, and your baby. Your people are looked upon with great respect; it is mine who are treated like we are less than nothing."

Leliana was shocked by the elf's admission; she had never heard him speak of his people's plight before.

She found that her heart went out to him.

Zerlinda pointed the wardens to a former Carta dwarf named Nadezda, if anyone knew where the Carta base was, it was likely her.

Alim thanked her, he gave her a sovereign, it would feed her and her baby for a while, at least until she could reach the surface and meet with the dwarves on the surface.

He found himself hoping that the girl would make it. He hated to admit it, but the longer he was down here; the more he missed the surface.

At least up top, the girl would have a chance.

IOI

Nadezda, a crippled former Carta member had a lot to say about her former employers.

Apparently, Jarvia was hunting one of her former leg breakers, a young lad named Brosca; he had killed Berat, the former leader of the Carta, and Jarvia's lover. After which, he had grabbed his family and fled. Jarvia had set up an ambush inside Brosca's old home.

It was here that Alim would be able to get the information he needed.

The elf took Shale, Sten, and Alistair. They sprung the trap the criminals had set for their former brother. All but one had been killed; Alim had spared him in exchange for the location of the criminals' base of operation, and the finger bone token that would gain them access.

Alim held the small bone between his fingers; he tried not to think of the poor bastard it had likely come from.

An hour later, Alim and his companions stood outside a ruined structure, according to that dwarf they had interrogated, it was here that the entrance to the carta base could be found.

Alim drew spellbinder from its sheath. He and Leliana would go in first, she to make sure there were no traps waiting for them, and he to clear out any large groups of opposition.

Once that was done, the rest of their allies would sweep in a deal with the survivors.

Alim put the token it its appropriate slot, the door clicked open.

He motioned Leliana forward.

The sister checked the door for any obvious traps, trip wires, pressure plates and the like.

As always he admired her skill, very little slipped by the woman when she working.

He found himself more and more grateful for her presence.

Pronouncing the way clear, Leliana stood back, Alim, flanked by Shale and Alistair entered the Carta base.

The way seemed quiet, at least at first, no guards, and few traps.

The warden elf found himself wondering if the carta had gotten careless, expecting their trick door and reputation to keep them safe.

If they had, then that had been a critical error on their part.

Alim turned the corner, and found himself face to face with ten Carta thugs, and all with their weapons drawn.

Shit!

The lead thug, a dirty faced blonde hair dwarf, glared at him.

"Password," he barked.

Alim smiled.

"Shale," he murmured.

The guard started to draw his weapon.

The golem sprang; its massive fist smeared the guard all over the floor.

The other carta gasped in horror.

Shale grinned.

"The password is squisssh," the golem laughed.

A dwarven archer shot at Shale.

Alim blasted him down with lightning.

More carta dwarves stormed the chamber.

The rest of Alim's companions joined them.

The battle began…

In all its bloody brilliance!

IOI

Leliana fired an arrow, a dwarf fell, she set her feet and delivered a reverse spin kick, snapping another's neck.

Zevran screamed for her to move, she dodged as an acid flask exploded in the midst of a large number of attackers. Shale waded into them, crushing all in its path.

Leliana shuddered.

The golem sure enjoyed its work.

Though…She hated to admit it, she understood the feeling.

_She was enjoying this as well!_

It had been a long time since she had engaged in such close-quarters fighting. Her friends and allies all around her, Marjolaine had always told her that a true bard could be chaos incarnate, and still not harm a hair on her allies' heads.

Leliana had always considered herself one of the true bards.

She back flipped out of the way of a crossbowman, flinging a dagger into his throat, he fell gasping for breath. She somersaulted over another, and snapped his neck from behind.

Her eyes flashed with excitement, she was out of breath and sweating…

_She had never felt so __**alive!**_

_**She…**_

_What are you doing?!_

The question stopped her in her tracks. Shame filled her, this…this was not who she was anymore! It had been easy when she had been in the cloister, but now…fighting beside Alim and the others.

She feared she was falling back into old habits…**bad habits.**

Shale blundered through an exploding barrel; it did not affect the golem, but killed the dwarves nearby.

The golem laughed, enjoying the carnage.

Leliana switched back to her bow, using her arrows to cover her companions.

She needed to remember who she was, what her life was now.

She was not Leliana the bard anymore, she was someone new…

She was someone who knew mercy, fairness, and compassion.

She was someone who did not embrace killing.

She was a new person…

…A better person.

IOI

Fighting the carta was like trying to clear an infestation, Alim realized, where ever they went, more thugs seemed to emerge, and they were not all dwarves either, they had seen several elves, apostates all, and Qunari as well.

Sten's eyes blazed with fury as he engaged his brethren, Alim had never seen the giant warrior so angry.

"Death to the gray ones," Sten shouted, "Death to the Tal Vashoth! Ataash Qunari!"

Sten had always been dangerous, but against these…Tal…whatever they were…

He was a terror.

Morrigan cackled as she fired fire and lightning at her attackers. So occupied was she that she missed a lone assassin sneaking up behind her.

Alistair pushed the young witch out of the way. The assassin's blade left an ugly red line on her back, but otherwise she was unharmed.

Alistair ended the killer's life with a vicious slash that removed his head.

Morrigan stared in disbelief.

He…he had saved her life…again.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He nodded and returned to the fight, she might have been wrong, but…

It almost looked like he had blushed a little at her comment.

There was no time to check though; once again the witch was swept up in the battle.

The running fight continued.

IOI

Leliana continued to sniff out traps, but something had happened to her. She…she seemed to be hesitating, afraid to get into the thickest fighting.

A few moments ago she had waded in without any resistance?

Alim promised himself to speak with her at the conclusion of this mission.

Hesitating at the wrong time could get someone killed.

They cleared the Carta Armory, and dungeon, they freed a prisoner named Leske. The dwarf was unwilling to help them, but he did tell them where Jarvia had retreated.

He had apparently been imprisoned down here for months, ever since Jarvia had recaptured him; he had no problem with seeing her fall now.

Alim promised him that is what they were here for.

Jarvia's days in Orzammar were numbered.

The wardens and their allies fought on, until they finally stood outside Jarvia's quarters. It was not surprising that she was waiting for them.

Alim was surprised, he expected some monster of a dwarf, but Jarvia was actually quite plain looking. Her dark hair was cut short and braided, a casteless brand graced her face, and she carried an ax and sword in each hand.

She sneered arrogantly at the elf.

"So Harrowmont finally realized we were taking the city," she sneered, "But I notice he could not bother to send his own men."

The elf smirked.

"I think his lordship thinks he above trash collecting," Alim responded, "But this does not have to get any bloodier than it already has. Surrender and I will be merciful."

Jarvia snorted at his offer.

"I find that hard to believe with your blades colored with my men's blood," she growled, "Kill them…but leave the mouthy little elf alive, I have plans for him."

Alim snorted, he would sooner burn himself then let the vicious little woman touch him.

He fired lightning at her.

She actually evaded it, she charged up the steps, intent on running him through.

Jarvia's blade clanged loudly with another.

Leliana glared at the dwarf.

"Keep your hands to yourself, bitch," she spat.

The two women faced off, Jarvia was a clever rogue, her blades were fast and her mind cunning. Leliana was hard-pressed to match her skills.

Alim stared in shock.

Why had she done that? He had not been in any…

"Lim we need you!"

Alistair's cry drew his attention; more thugs emerged from a northern tunnel. Alim's stormbreaker powers may have been stunted underground, but that did not make him helpless.

He summoned chain lightning down on his targets. A stray bolt ignited another explosive barrel. The force separated Leliana and Jarvia.

The carta boss rolled to her feet, she tried to take advantage of the situation.

"I'm going to wear your pretty little teeth around my wrist," she growled.

Leliana backpedalled, she swept her blade in dramatic movements designed to distract and exhaust the criminal.

She could almost hear Marjolaine's voice in her head.

_There is no reason why something cannot be both beautiful and lethal my pretty thing._

She had been referring to both combat and Leliana herself at the time.

The compliment had left the young bard blushing.

Marjolaine had thought her beautiful.

Jarvia grew frustrated; she tried to end the battle with a vicious cut at Leliana's head.

The bard blocked with her short sword, and swept out with her dagger.

The blade slashed across Jarvia's stomach.

The dwarf gasped and tried to fall back.

Leliana did not let her retreat.

She struck with her short sword.

Jarvia lost her head to the blow.

Gasping and out of breath, Leliana stared down at her beaten opponent. She felt that old excitement again, the joy of crushing worthy foe.

She tried to ignore it; she said a quick prayer for the slain dwarf.

Even scum deserved the Maker's mercy.

He had taken pity on her after all.

At the time, she had been no better than Jarvia…

Perhaps, even a bit worse.

IOI

With their leader dead, the carta collapsed, Alim and the others had time to raid the criminals' stores for anything of value.

Alim found himself searching Jarvia's office.

Leliana came up behind him.

The sister passed him a small envelope of documents. They contained evidence that House Harrowmont had been supplying lyrium to the Carta.

The documents had been given to them by Vartag Gavorn, and were to be used to prove Alim's loyalty to the prince.

The elf would be lying if he said he did not like it. He hated all this backstabbing bullshit, but was Harrowmont really so different.

He could have sent his own men to deal with Jarvia, but he had not wanted to weaken his house doing good for Orzammar.

Better to let the wardens take the risk.

Then…there was the thing with the casteless. As an elf, Alim knew what it was like to be treated like you were nothing. Even in the tower there had been apprentices who had thought him unworthy of studying magic, much less being Irving's apprentice.

No…Alim saw very little difference between the two nobles, and now they both owed him.

Ali would likely have disagreed, but he had put Alim in charge for a reason.

Alim was prepared to do what was needed.

It was like the old warden saying…

A warden does what he must.


	30. Elves and Paragons

**Chapter 30: Elves and Paragons**

The wardens made their way back from Dust Town.

Alim could not help but look at Orzammar in a different way since coming from that place. How could the dwarves do that to their own kind? How could they simply write off a whole generation of people because of something their ancestors had done?

It seemed stupid to him, stupid and wasteful.

He glanced back at the others; everyone seemed to be dealing with things in their own way. Gus and Sten seemed proud of themselves, perhaps they saw what they did to the Carta as a good thing, freeing the city from the grip of a dangerous criminal element.

He they were right to a certain degree, he supposed.

Zevran was sorting through his coin purse, he had looted the dead carta for any coin or jewelry they were carrying, it was a bit ghoulish Alim thought, but it wasn't like they were all being paid to fight the Blight were they?

They needed coin; sometimes they did what they must to get it.

Morrigan was glaring at Alistair…again. The witch's hand kept going to her back; a small red mark now marred her pale skin. She did not seem angry with him though, her eyes were more confused than angry.

Alim rolled his eyes, the two really needed to sit down a talk sometime.

Shale seemed downright merry; the golem had enjoyed a chance for a little mindless violence. The elven mage was starting to wonder if the golem had suffered mental damage from its long sleep. It seemed to enjoy its work far too much.

Bandit padded along beside him, happy to be fighting at his master's side. Alim reached down to stroke the dog's course fur. Bandit panted happily, showing his big mabari grin.

Leliana had fallen silent. She walked at his side saying nothing, which was unusual for the usually chatty sister.

Her brow was furrowed, she seemed deep in thought.

Alim smiled slightly.

_She was cute when she was so serious._

The thought stopped him dead in his tracks.

Cute?

He shook his head, trying to clear it of any other such thoughts. Leliana was not cute. She could not be cute in his eyes. They were facing a world of danger, the Blight, Loghain, and the Archdemon.

He did not have time to think of his red-haired companion as cute.

They had work to do.

IOI

Two arguing dwarves blocked the entrance to the Diamond Quarter, both clad in armor of the warrior caste, but only one was armed. The unarmed dwarf was growling fiercely at the other man, his heavy chainmail had seen better days; it was dirty and stank of cheap ale. His spikey red hair, and braided beard looked unkept, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot.

If the dwarf was not drunk, he was definitely hung over.

Alim was intrigued, since when did a warrior walk around with no weapons, much less let themselves fall into such a state?

IOI

"It will be two years…TWO YEARS TOMORROW!" the ginger dwarf growled, "By all the sodding Ancestors, how can you people just ignore **that!"**

The other man chuckled.

"Branka did not go alone Oghren," he reminded the other man, "She took her whole house, everyone but you. No one is going to aid you. So why don't you just crawl back to Tapsters and drink yourself blind. You know that is how this always ends."

Oghren growled in the back of his throat, he reached for a weapon that was not there.

The other warrior snorted.

Oghren's eyes narrowed in anger.

"Do you think I'm afraid of some cub warrior, who is barely off the teat. HA! I'll…"

"You lift a weapon, or attacking anyone in Orzammar, and you will be stripped of your caste and banished, remember that?"

Oghren backed down from his fighting stance, he shook his head, grumbling he retreated in the direction of Tapster's Tavern.

He needed a drink.

The other warrior laughed.

"That's it Oghren, crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out of!"

The ginger-haired dwarf growled.

Stupid Ivo, if he had not been…

Oghren's shoulders slumped in defeat.

Now was not the time to fight.

It was time to forget, Branka, Ivo, and everything else.

He needed a drink.

IOI

Alim and the others passed them both by, the group returned to the warden compound in the diamond quarter.

All, but Leliana, the sister remained behind, what they had heard had made her curious.

She wanted to know more about what was going.

She put on her most enchanting smile and approached young Lord Ivo.

She could be very charming when she wanted something, and when she was…few denied her.

She wanted something now.

She intended to have it.

IOI

Another night cycle began in Orzammar.

The dwarves settled in to their homes or in the taverns for the night.

News of Jarvia's fall had spread quickly. There was talk of another vote in the assembly tomorrow.

Many credited Harrowmont for the victory over the Carta, but others pointed out that evidence had been discovered linking him to the Carta in the first place.

It seemed that the Assembly of the Clans would remain deadlocked…again.

Alim could not care less, at least for tonight. He sat out on a terrace on the roof of the warden compound. He looked down over the mighty sight that was Orzammar.

He chuckled slightly, balconies in a city that was underground did not make sense to him. It was not like the people could sit out under the stars?

His eyes turned sad.

He found…he found that he missed the stars. It felt like they had been down here for months, even though it had only been a matter of weeks.

Bandit dosed at his feet, occasionally Alim would give the dog a gentle nudge in the side with his boot, just enough to let him know he had not been forgotten.

Bandit let out a sleepy groan.

"May I join you?"

Leliana stood behind him, the bard had changed out of her armor, she now wore a simple sleeveless silk shirt, and leggings. It was clear that she had bathed since her return, the sweet smell of scented bath oils tickled at Alim's nose.

It was soothing, just like the company that had joined him on the terrace.

He motioned for her to sit. She sat down just close enough so that they could speak without being overheard.

Part him wished that she would sit closer still, he pushed those thoughts away.

_Stupid brain._

"I saw you speaking with that warrior today," he said conversationally.

She nodded, still keeping her own counsel.

He gave her a look, was she just going to keep him in suspense.

A playful smile tugged at her lips.

A bard always knew how to ensnare her audience.

Alim was properly ensnared, now.

She could begin.

"Learn anything good?" he asked.

"Interesting is a better word," she replied, "Tell me Alim, do you know what a dwarven paragon is?"

"I've heard the word mentioned several times, but no."

Leliana smiled.

"A paragon is a dwarf that has done something so great, that they are considered ancestors by the dwarves, a living god if you will. Regardless of caste, they are elevated to the nobility and a new house is founded in their name. Their family joins the ranks of the nobility that is how the noble caste began."

"Interesting for the dwarves," Alim shrugged, "But how is that interesting to us?"

She gave him a conspiratory look.

"They are interesting to us, because the vote of a paragon in the dwarven assembly is equal to the whole assembly. A paragon could quite literally name a king here in Orzammar tomorrow."

Alim considered this, a smile of his own began to show.

"That…is interesting," he said nodding.

She nodded in agreement.

He looked out over the city.

Just one person's vote, just one, it was an intriguing idea.

"Are there any paragons currently living here in Orzammar?" he asked.

That is the problem," Leliana frowned, "The only paragon of this generation is lost, she went into the deep roads two years ago, and has not been seen since."

"Wonderful," Alim cursed, "I should have realized, this shit would not have gone on this long if one person could have ended it with a single word."

Leliana agreed, she had debated not telling Alim what she had learned, but things were getting tense.

They needed a way to help break this deadlock in the assembly, and soon.

"I'm sure that this idea has not escaped either Harrowmont or Bhelen," she said, "Do not be surprised if they ask us about Branka soon."

Alim sighed heavily, Alistair had told him about the deep roads. Once a symbol of dwarven power, the roads had been the lifeline to the old dwarven empire, it was said a person could travel anywhere in Thedas by using the deep roads.

The first blight ended that.

Year by year, the deep roads had been lost, Darkspawn overwhelmed them, and the dwarven cities as well. Now only two dwarven cities remained, and they were weakening with each passing year.

One day the deeps would along belong to the darkspawn.

It was a tragic thing.

Alim frowned.

Would Harrowmont ask them to seek out this Branka? Would Bhelen?

Would the journey even be worth it?

Alim shook his head, he was grateful for Leliana sharing this information with him, it would give him time to weigh their options.

For a time, the two fell silent, simply enjoying the view.

Alim looked down at the grand city below them, he could not help but feel a sense of disgust.

"Did being in Dust Town bother you?" he asked.

She winced.

"Yes," she admitted, "being there, seeing how those poor casteless live, it was disturbing."

Alim snorted, that was an understatement right there.

"It made me think of my own people," He confessed, "Living trapped in the Alienages. Of course, after seeing the Dalish, I can't see if what they have is better, hiding and hoping for a miracle to give them a new home one day. It doesn't make sense to me."

Leliana could see his point, it was strange, she had never given the plight of the elves much though, until she had met Alim.

"Did you ever live in an Alienage?" she asked.

"I was born in one, the one in Denerim," he told her, "But my family left when I was a baby. I have no memory of that place. I grew up on the Bann's estate in Lothering, until I was sent to the tower."

"I have never been to the Denerim Alienage, or any of the ones in Orlais either," she said, "In the Empire, few humans venture there. Most of the elves I knew worked as servants in the noble houses where my patrons lived."

Alim's ears twitched in anger.

"Slaves," he spat.

"Indentured servants," she corrected him, "In Orlais, a well-trained elven servant is highly prized, a status symbol. They are well cared for, and some live richer lives than most human commoners."

"So they are like prize livestock," he growled, "Or pets?"

"Of course not," she sputtered, she realized that she had made a mistake.

_Stupid Leliana, stupid… stupid… stupid!_

"Perhaps I should sell myself to an Orlesian noble," he said indignantly, "Be well cared for like a good little elf?"

"No," she stammered, "I…I did not mean…"

She fell silent, she could see the hurt in his eyes, she had meant no offense, but…

She bowed her head in shame.

"I am sorry," she said, "My words…they were poorly chosen. I meant no disrespect."

Alim's features softened.

_He liked to think that he was not overly sensitive about being born elven, but it was hard not to see human bigotry when you had seen it all your life._

Even in the tower, there had been people that did not like elves.

_Leliana did not hate his people, but she…she still did not understand._

_He was shocked to discover, that he wanted her to understand…he wanted to teach her to understand!_

"You are not cruel," he said sadly, "But…you still see us…see me…as an elf, as a lesser. I doubt you ever even thought about it before now. I accept your apology, but try to see us…see me…as a person…not just as an elf."

Her shoulders sagged, she looked at him sheepishly.

"I am sorry," she repeated, "You…you are right…I never saw things in this way. Thank you, you have given me much to think about."

He nodded, suddenly he did not what to be out here anymore.

"Come Bandit," he said, the dog rose and followed after him.

He looked one last time at Leliana.

"Good night, sister," he said quietly, "I…I will see you in the morning."

"Good night," she whispered.

Alim left her then.

Leliana sat quietly for a moment, her blue eyes darkening in rage.

_Wasted, _she thought_, all the progress she had made with Alim…wasted…_

**And all because of one stupid comment!**

She rose with an angry hiss. She glared at one of those stupid griffon statues that dotted the halls of the compound.

_She released her anger._

She threw a powerful thrust kick, it shattered the statue's head sending it crashing to the floor.

Marjolaine would have been pleased, she had shattered the stone with her bare foot.

She had not even felt any pain.

Thinking of her former master did not help.

She kicked the statue again, a wing snapped off.

She stood there, panting, her anger abated…somewhat.

**I am a fool! I am stupid!**

"I see the sister doesn't like the winged vermin either."

She turned to see Shale watching her, a look of amusement on the golem's face.

"Would the sister like to smash all the winged statues?" shale offered, "I would be happy to help."

Leliana growled, she stalked off to her room.

She had enough of company tonight.

In the morning, she would have to start all over with Alim.

She did not look forward to that.

She did not look forward to that at all!

IOI

Shale shook its head.

It would never understand humans.

The golem walked up to the damaged statue.

A single blow finished Leliana's work.

Shale grunted in satisfaction.

It turned to the other statues.

"Let that be a lesson to the rest of you," the golem said.

It went down the hall.

Perhaps it could find something else to squish.

That…would be fun!


	31. Before the Dark

**Chapter 31: Before the Dark**

"Tell me warden, what do you know of the Paragon Branka?"

Alim did his best to suppress a smile. He had to give it to Leliana; the girl knew what she was talking about.

Prince Bhelen recognized that it would not do to have the wardens come to the palace during the day. Vartag had come with his invitation late during the dwarven sleep cycle. The prince struck him as just another spoiled dwarven noble, ruthless and ambitious. His blonde hair and beard were clean, styled, and marked with the symbols of wealth. His eyes however were cold; Alim would not be surprised to learn if this man had murdered his brother, and sent his sister off to die.

It would not have surprised him one bit.

Alim had brought Alistair and Shale with him, his fellow warden was surprised that Alim had accepted the invitation, of course he had not known about the evidence planting thing either…

Alistair glared at him; Alim knew that he had a lot of explaining to do once they got back to the warden quarters.

He would likely have to talk fast, but he was confident that he could make his friend and warden brother see reason.

That was for later though, now…he had the prince to deal with.

The elf smiled at the noble.

"I know that she was a smith, and also an inventor," these things he had learned from asking the servants at the warden compound, few dwarves in Orzammar did not have an opinion on Branka, and if she still lived or not. It was a topic that was easy to gain information on.

"Indeed," Bhelen nodded, "One of the finest of her generation, though from what I understand the social graces were lacking. She went into the deep roads two years ago, seeking some sort of ancient knowledge. Her endorsement for my crown would go a long way to achieving victory.

Alim crossed his arms; he was interested to see Bhelen's reaction to his response.

"Harrowmont told me the same thing," the elf said, "I'm guessing you are not the only one seeking a paragon's aid."

Bhelen frowned, the dwarven prince began to pace.

"So Harrowmont desires her endorsement as well. I should have expected this."

He turned to Alim.

"Tell me warden, who would you support for the crown? You seem to have two feet planted firmly in both camps?"

"The wardens are neutral, your highness," he said diplomatically, "But we recognize that we need a strong king on the throne of Orzammar. One who looks forward, not back."

Bhelen smiled.

"You speak candidly and plainly warden, I can respect that," the prince admitted, "So allow me to be equally candid. You have seen the lengths I'm prepared to go to ensure the safety of Orzammar. You have also likely heard the lies others speak of me, especially the ones concerning my elder brother Trian."

The prince's face turned sad.

"I did not kill my brother; my sister did, in a brazen attempt to become heir to the throne. I may have suggested that Trian sought her destruction, but that was all. It did not take much on my part to get my siblings to turn on each other. If either of them had ascended to the throne, Orzammar would have suffered greatly. My people can be so much more than what Harrowmont suspects. He hides behind tradition like a cloak. The dwarves must be prepared to do brave things if we are to survive into the next age."

"My lord?"

The voice that had spoken was shy, almost pained.

Bhelen turned a warm smile on his face.

Alim looked behind them.

A small dwarven woman with bright red hair stood there, she was dressed in a fine nightgown and robes. The elf was shocked to notice the casteless brand on her cheek.

_What was this now?_

"Is there something wrong Rica, my dear," the prince purred.

"I was up with the baby," she confessed, "he has finally fallen asleep."

"Is my son well?" Bhelen asked.

"Fine and strong," Rica said with a smile, "My apologies for interrupting you Milord."

"No apologies necessary, love," Bhelen said kissing her lightly on the cheek, "I shall retire shortly, please give my love to little Endrin."

She curtseyed and left the room, Bhelen's eyes followed her as she left. He gave a tired sigh.

"My apologies warden," the prince said, "Rica is still adjusting to palace life."

"There is no need, highness," Alim responded, "Forgive me for saying so, but your wife is casteless?"

"Technically she is my concubine," Bhelen informed him, "but she is the woman I care for, the Mother of my son. "

"I was in Dust Town recently," Alim informed him, "I find it hard to believe that so many see little value of the casteless, they are quite numerous, and would likely fight for their home if given half the chance."

The Prince shook his head.

"That is another failing of our traditions warden," he admitted, "a dwarf is a dwarf to a darkspawn, if they took Orzammar tomorrow, the casteless would die the same as either merchant, noble, or warrior. If I was king, I would see them elevated, let them fight and earn a place in our world. My Rica is no less a dwarf, should she be considered nothing because one of her ancestors committed a crime centuries ago?"

Alim nodded, perhaps Bhelen were not the same after all.

"Harrowmont has provided me with maps leading to the old dwarven settlement of Caradin's Cross, he suggests that I start my search for the paragon there," Alim informed the noble.

"My own men hint at the same," The prince admitted, "I will show you all that they have gathered, it may aid you in your search."

"Forgive me, your grace," Alistair said, joining the conversation for the first time, "But what do you expect us to do, if it seems that Branka will not support you?"

Alim glared at his friend, but…he hated to admit it, he wanted to know that answer too.

Bhelen gave them a wolfish smile.

"If the deep roads has so addled Branka's mind that she is no longer able to see what is best for Orzammar, then perhaps it would be best if she did not return alive. A body would be equally good in this case. Proof that the Ancestors guided you to her remains, so that I could return her to the stone."

Alim was silent, Bhelen was a crafty one, he had asked them to kill Branka without asking them.

_The Prince was clearly a dwarf with a talent for survival._

Alistair gave Alim a look, he shook his head, they would discuss this back at the warden quarters.

"We shall do as you ask, Highness," he promised with a bow, "Now…if you will excuse us, we have work to do."

"Of course, warden," the prince said, "May the stone guide your steps in this endeavor."

Alim and Alistair left the prince's quarters; Shale met them in the hall.

Alistair did not look happy, he was glaring at Alim.

The elf sighed.

_This would not be a pleasant conversation._

IOI

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS!"

"Calm down Alistair," Alim said.

"Calm down, CALM DOWN! Lim, Bhelen is not the kind of person we should be dealing with."

"I agree," the elf said.

"I don't…" Alistair paused…had Alim just agreed with him.

"What?" Alistair said.

"I recognize that Bhelen is not a good man," the elf continued, "But Harrowmont is not much better. Maker's breath Alistair, he could have dealt with the Carta, but he did not want to risk losing his own men. Bhelen maybe a bastard, but at least he is an honest bastard."

Alistair shook his head; he gave up trying to figure out this crazy city a week ago.

"So…we are going to do it. We are going into the deep roads to search for this Branka?"

"I am going," he corrected his friend, "I'll take a small group with me, and search, the others will remain here…under your command."

Alistair's eyes widened.

Alim was going to leave him in charge?

He was going to leave him behind?

_Bad idea, BAAAAAD idea._

"You do not have to coddle me Lim," Alistair reminded him, "If you go, I go."

"We can't both go into the deep roads," Alim reminded him, "We are the last two Grey Wardens, and the blight still has to be fought. You will wait here for two months, if we have not returned…you shall take the others and continue on with the remaining treaty. Come back to Orzammar later if you have to; with luck the kingship maybe decided by then."

"If one of us has to stay, maybe if should be you," former Templar offered, "The mages know you…"

"And this Arl Eamon knows you," the elf said, "You have a better shot than I to convince the nobles to aid us."

Alistair snorted, if Lim only knew, a skin rash was likely more welcome than him in Redcliffe.

Alim's ears twitched with irritation.

"We can't both go, Ali," he said, "This is likely a suicide mission. If we had more wardens to risk that would be different, but we do not. It is up to us, and I can think of no one more suited than you to lead if I fall."

Alistair shook his head, Alim did not know what he was saying…but…he did make sense.

Maker help them all.

"You have to survive this," the former Templar said.

"I will try," the elf promised, "but this is the deep roads we are talking about."

"They are supposed to be safer to travel during blight," Alistair offered.

"That makes me feel sooooo much better," the elf chuckled.

Alistair snorted with amusement; Lim truly was a smart ass.

"So, that is it," Alistair said, "You have decided."

"Yes."

Alistair tried to think of something to say, something to convince the elf not to do this, but he could not.

It was funny, if someone had told him back at Ostagar that he would consider the snarky elven mage a friend he would have laughed, but now…now…

He realized that he saw of Alim more than a friend, and more than a fellow warden.

He…he had come to consider the elf as…family…like a brother, an annoying snarky little brother, but a brother none the less.

He smiled at Alim, and held out his hand.

"Maker watch over you, brother," he said.

The elf took it, and gave it a shake.

"Over us both, brother," Alim said.

The two men smiled, what an odd family they made, the last of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden.

Maker help them all.

"Look at the bright side Ali," Alim grinned, "You get to spend some alone time with Morrigan."

Alistair wrinkled his nose.

"You're not taking her?"

"Nope, she is all yours."

"Great," Alistair said dryly.

Alim cackled in amusement, he turned to leave.

"Who is going with you?" he asked the elf.

"Shale and Sten," he informed his friend, "I also asked Leliana, she is afraid, but is willing to go with us."

"Just the four of you?" Alistair sounded concerned.

Alim shook his head.

"I hope to bring one other," the elf confessed, "I sent Leliana to speak with him. I want a dwarven guide along for the ride."

_A dwarven guide? _

Alistair could not imagine who Alim would want to accompany them? Who in Orzammar could they trust?

_Who would be crazy enough even to want to go?_

IOI

Tapster's Tavern was packed this time of night.

Leliana arrived, hooded and cloaked. She was surprised that Alim would even talk to her after her major screw up earlier, much less ask her to do something for him.

She needed to do this she realized, to show Alim that she was not some…bigot.

She had come to like being in Alim's regard, she did not want to lose that.

She spoke with the hostess, hoping that her quarry was still here.

The dwarven woman motioned to a table in the back, a look of distaste on her face.

Leliana headed that way.

The dwarf she sought sat nursing a mug of ale in the farthest booth in the back; everyone else gave him a wide birth.

He glared up at her with bloodshot eyes.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT!" he growled.

"Greetings Ser dwarf," she said with a polite bow, "I am here on behalf of the Grey Wardens. They wish to speak to you."

The dwarf snorted a laughed.

"So it is like that is it?" he snorted, "Harrowmont's grown so desperate he is hitting up ole' Oghren for info, eh. Well, if he wants the secrets of a paragon he can go look for her his own damn self."

Leliana gave the dwarf a sly smile, she could not have dreamed of a more perfect set-up.

"Actually," she said, "The wardens are planning an expedition into the deep roads. We are going to look for the Paragon Branka."

Oghren paused, his mind tried to function, despite the drunken haze, his red glassy eyes tried to focus on her.

"You having me on, lass?"

"We thought that you might wish to aid us," she said with a shrug, "But if you do not wish to help…"

She turned, starting to walk away.

"Hold up," Oghren shouted.

She turned a serene smile on her face.

"Yes, ser dwarf?" she asked innocently.

Oghren grinned at her. He motioned to the chair across from him.

"Wanna pint, lass," he offered, "I think we have some things to jaw about."

Leliana smiled and sat.

_Yes, they did have some things to talk about._


	32. Those We Choose to Honor

**Chapter 32: Those We Choose to Honor**

"Tis a mistake Warden," Morrigan said sullenly.

Alim looked up from his packing, the witch stood in his doorway, her arms crossed her posture belligerent.

He should have expected this.

"What mistake might that be, Morrigan?" he asked, "Going into the deep roads to search for this Branka, or leaving you behind to assist Alistair?"

"Both," she grumbled, "Tis a suicide mission and you know it. Surely the dwarven woman is dead after two years in that dark place. Tis no reason to throw your life away on a fool's errand, if someone must go send Alistair, he is far more replaceable than you."

The elf chuckled.

"I'm surprised you think so," he answered her, "You two have gone back and forth saving each other's lives for months now. I figure you would want to stay together."

She glared at him, if looks could kill, he would probably have fallen dead, right then and there.

"I pay my debts," she said, "He has protected me, tis only fair that I return the favor."

"Exactly," Alim smiled, "If this does not work, if I don't return, I need to know he will have someone at his side with her eye on what needs to be done. What must be done…"

He stood before her, his brown eyes serious.

"I can think of no one more qualified for that than you."

Surprise shown in her amber eyes, he…he had faith in her, he was trusting her with this? Few would ever think her trust worthy. A witch of the wilds was not known for being dependable.

She sighed heavily.

"He is a fool," she mumbled.

"Sometimes, I don't doubt that," Alim shrugged, "But you are not, you know what is at stake. You will accompany Alistair if I fall, you will help him end this Blight. Everything we have fought for depends on it. He will still need to complete the circle treaty…"

The witch snorted.

"So, you expect me to walk at his side into the circle of oppression, wonderful."

A small grin played across his features.

He had always thought himself the snarky one.

"Alistair will need magical support. Plus you will not be standing alone, Gus is here, Zevran too, they will aid you in whatever you need."

She shook her head, it seemed that there was no reasoning with Alim.

Disappointing.

"So you, the Qunari, the golem, the drunk, the mongrel and the chantry twit will try to do what the dwarven army has not been able to do. Locate this woman and bring her home?"

"I suppose we will, I need her vote to break the deadlock in the assembly. I will have it, one way or the other."

Morrigan smiled slyly.

"And who will you choose if you succeed. If you bring back the woman's festering corpse, which fool will you present the crown to?"

Alim frowned, he had not decided on that part yet. Harrowmont at least pretended to be honorably. Bhelen was ambition personified.

Who would be best suited to aid them against the Archdemon?

He would have to decide soon.

Personally he hoped that Branka was still alive, he hoped he could convince her to see reason and help him. Oghren said that was not extremely likely, Branka could be very stubborn. Apparently, if she thought one and one made three, none would change her mind, that was the strength of her will.

Oghren still seemed a bit enamored with her, or at least the memory of what they once had.

Alim hoped that would not become a problem.

He did not want to have to kill Branka, but if she left them little choice, what else could he do, he needed the kingship decided.

He hated all this backstabbing bullshit, but he realized he had to be willing to play the game if they were to win in the end.

He hoped this whole foul business would be worth it.

"I will choose the strongest leader," he said, "The one most likely to aid us, and not stab us in the back when all was done."

"A wise attitude," she agreed, "By far your wisest decision to date."

"Thanks," he said dryly, "I think."

She gave him a curt nod, before turning to leave.

She paused…something had occurred to her.

"Alim," she whispered.

He looked up at her.

She turned, all of her usual arrogance was gone, the witch seemed pensive…nervous even.

She looked scared.

"My Mother told me stories of the deep roads warden, there are worse things in the deeps than darkspawn. You…you must be prepared to do what is necessary. The dwarf is not worth the nightmares you will face there.

He gave her a serious look, he had never heard that kind of concern from the witch.

He understood how serious she was, how important this had to be.

"I…I will keep that in mind, Morrigan," he promised, "Thank you, for your concern."

She nodded and left the room.

He paused, considering her words.

The deep roads.

He did not doubt that they were walking into darkness, but their mission was vital. If he could do this without making this journey, he would in a heartbeat.

He simply had no choice, they…had no choice.

He suddenly realized that he did not want to be alone right now. He grabbed Bandit and the two of them headed out into Orzammar.

He wanted a drink.

IOI

Morrigan cursed herself.

What was she thinking? Why did she say all those things?

Why did she even care?!

She grumbled as she made her way back to her room. Tomorrow, Alim would be gone into the deep roads to search for that fool dwarf woman, and she would be left behind…here…

Here with Alistair.

She hissed furiously.

If anyone but Alim had asked her to do this, she would have refused. She had come to trust the elven mage during their travels together. She knew him to be wise, most of the time.

How could she do this…?

And why…why did she feel so…nervous about it?

She tried to dissect what she was feeling, trying to figure out what had happened.

Alistair was a fool, but…he was a handsome fool, one who had saved her life several times over.

She was…she felt…stirrings.

She had started to grow curious.

A warmth that she did not recognize had found its way passed her many defenses, washing over her and inside her. Whenever they were not in battle, if they were alone, a nervous knot formed in her belly whenever she was close to the fool. A warmth that started in the pit of her stomach…

…and worked its way down.

She hated this, she hated everything about it!

She would will all these fool thoughts away if she could, but sadly…no matter how much she wanted to…

She could not.

IOI

Alim made his way to Tapsters, as always the tavern was busy. Word had started to spread about their mission tomorrow, many dwarves offered to buy him a drink.

He politely refused; he preferred to stick to surface ale.

He noticed Leliana sitting on the stage; she sat in a chair speaking to a group of listeners. A pitcher sat at her feet, it already continued a few coins.

It seemed their former minstrel was plying her old trade.

Alim sat near the back and pricked up his ears to listen, Bandit lay close near his feet.

Leliana continued her tale.

"The brave elven warrior did not fear the beasts," she said raising her hands like claws. "They tried to strike and batter her, but she did not yield. She stood before the wall of fangs and teeth, sword and shield in hand."

The dwarves mumbled approval; they knew what it was to fight enemies in the dark.

Tough lass," a dwarf near the front said.

"Indeed," the bard nodded, "She held the corridor and ordered her friends to run. They still had to reach the evil blood mage who had cursed so many. She…she would remain behind, for her ancestors, for her people, she would give the rest of her fellowship a chance to do what needed to be done."

Many of the dwarven soldiers nodded, they knew what that was like, many a friend had died in the deeps covering the escape of his unit.

Leliana's eyes turned sad.

The warrior fought until her wounds were too great, until loss of blood and flesh laid her low. She still struggled to hold the monsters. To give her allies more time, then, as all hope had faded. The spell was broken. The monsters were returned to their former selves.

"The bard swallowed hard, her audience was enrapt, there was not a dry eye in the place.

"The man who sought to win her heart, returned to her then. He held her close, tried to convince her to stay, but sadly some battles cannot be won. She left him then, gone to join her fathers and grandfathers in the afterlife. Knowing that one day, she would see her friends again, that they would remember her sacrifice, that the name of the brave warrior Bellethiel would never…be forgotten."

Leliana bowed her head, heralding the end of her tale.

Her audience went wild.

The bard rose, emotionally spent, she bowed to them one and all.

Coins were added to her pitcher, the profits of a good evenings work.

She noticed Alim sitting near the back of the bar, he…he had a strange look on his face.

Curiously she approached him, after gathering up her coins of course.

He gave her a smile that was part amused and sad.

"It is the Tale of Bellethiel," she informed him.

He gave her a strange look.

"It was not completely true," he said.

"All good stories need a little embellishment," she shrugged, "Belle deserved to be remembered, you told me that once. If not among her own people, then…perhaps among ours. I will pass this story along on our travels. Let history and time be the judge of our lost friend.

Now he did smile, a single tear ran down his cheek.

Leliana had honored Belle more fittingly than anything he could think of, her name would with luck belong to the ages now. It would one day eclipse the Dalish's opinion of Zathrian.

There was no more fitting monument for her.

To go down through the ages, known…as a hero.

And it was all because of Leliana.

A single act of kindness had wiped away her remark from the other day. What did what she once thought of him mattered now? She had honored him, and Belle's memory with this.

He wiped it away suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He stared into her blue eyes, the fire light glinting off her pale skin, and turning her red hair the color of flame. She was like a beautiful shining candle.

He never had wanted to kiss someone more in his entire life.

"Is something wrong, Alim?" she asked.

He shook his head no, and offered her a seat next to him. She accepted. Bandit nuzzled her leg to get her attention; she patted him on the head.

He finally saw the woman beneath the robes and armor, the truth about the minstrel and sister.

_Leliana was simply a good woman, with a good and true heart._

_She was…truly beautiful, inside and out._

He saw her value now.

But with it came a realization, and a heavy sigh.

He would never be worthy of such a person, such a person was not attracted to one such as him.

He had seen her true value; it was a shame that she would likely never see his.

His ears drooped slightly.

Such a woman required a hero, a brave warrior to make her happy. She…she would likely never see him in that way.

_What could such a woman want with a too short elf, with two big ears?_

He knew the answer to that question.

She never would want such a thing…

And she likely never would.


	33. Into Darkness

**A/N: I was asked recently in a review how do Alim's ears droop. Here is my answer, the elves in my dragon age stories have a bit more control over their long ears. They droop in sadness, or lower in anger. It is just a part of whimsy on my part, I want my elves to be a little different than small humans with pointed ears, I wanted to give the feel that they were a different race. That is all, hope I answered your question, and enjoy thirty three!**

**Chapter 33: Into Darkness**

The day came for the warden's journey into the deep roads.

Alim gathered their little party together. He wanted to make sure that everyone understood the objectives of this little mission.

Find Branka, or what was left of her, and get back to Orzammar as quickly as possible to settle the kingship.

The elf mage did not expect this task to be easy, but they were out of options, the dwarves seemed unable to settle the matter of throne themselves.

The wardens needed to take matters into their own hands.

Alistair and his group would remain behind to handle the next treaty if they did not return. Alim wanted him to continue to work Bhelen and Harrowmont, keep the wardens in both their good graces, if by some miracle the kingship was decided while they were away, the wardens could still negotiate for the fulfillment of the treaty.

Morrigan promised Alim that she would keep things on track; she would make sure that the fool's conscience did not get in the way of his duty.

The elf thanked her. Alistair was a good warden with a good heart, but sometimes a cold calculating mind was needed…

That is where the witch came in.

Alim, Bandit, Sten, Shale, and Leliana left the warden estate shortly what on the surface would be sun up. They carried enough supplies for a two month journey into the deep roads. Including a potion that supposedly protected a non-warden from the effects of the blight sickness, Sten and Leliana would need that protection, the deep roads were supposedly safer to travel during a Blight, but there were bound to still be darkspawn and other tainted monsters hiding in the deeps.

They met up with Oghren at Tapster's, surprisingly, the ginger haired warrior was not drunk today, his armor had been polished to a mirror shine, and he carried both a battle ax and a heavy maul. One of the warrior caste noticed him, he threatened to have Oghren arrested for carrying arms in city limits, apparently he had been forbade for doing so after killing some nobleman's son.

Alim stood up for him.

Oghren was going into the deep roads, he would need those weapons.

The warriors were shocked that the warden actually wanted Oghren to go with them.

The dwarf chuckled; he gave them all the finger as they left the Tavern.

There were cheers as they made their way to the mines entrance that led to the deep roads. Apparently word had gotten out about the warden's mission.

As far as the rest of the city knew, he was still in the employ of Lord Harrowmont. The side deal the elf had made with Bhelen remained a secret.

Alim hoped it stayed that way until their return; they did not need dwarves interfering with their search for the lost paragon.

As they drew close to the entrance an old dwarven woman stopped them, she said her name was Filda, her son Ruck had been lost in the deep roads five years ago, she promised to pay if they found anything that might enlighten her to his fate.

Leliana embraced the woman; she promised that they would keep her son in mind as they conducted their search for Branka.

Alim shot her a look; it was not a good idea to make promises they could not keep.

After five years…would there be anything left of the woman's son to find?

Leliana told him later that she knew that the chances were remote, but sometimes a kind promise was all that was needed.

Sometimes…all someone needed was a little hope.

Alim saw her point, though he hated to admit it. Once again the beautiful red head had shown the strength of her heart.

He tried to push those thoughts away.

There was no reason to obsess over something…over someone he could never have.

He needed to stay focused.

They had a job to do.

IOI

"OPEN YOUR EYES MAN, THIS WARDEN IS ON A QUEST TO SAVE YOUR PARAGON! DO I HAVE TO TEAR YOUR SODDING HEAD OFF?"

Alim sighed; it seemed that Oghren made friends so easily. The mine commander at the gates had tried to stop them from entering the deep roads.

Oghren stepped up and objected to that.

The elf just hoped that their new companion's objections would not land them all in a dwarven prison cell.

Fortunately, Leliana was with them. She put on her most disarming smile.

Even the hardened dwarf seemed to relax.

"We enter the deep roads under the permission of Lord Harrowmont, Ser dwarf," she explained, "We seek to return Branka to your city in his name."

The man nodded.

"So it seems lass," he said checking the papers that Harrowmont had given them, "And even if you had not, Oghren should have been a deshyr for House Branka. I suppose he is the best in both skill and arrogance. You may path in Lord Harrowmont's name, but be warned, my men will not be wasted on rescue missions if you get into trouble, are orders are to hold this entrance, whatever the cost."

Alim nodded, he expected little else from the dwarves.

"Are there any other military units past this point?" the elf asked.

"Legion of the Dead mostly, "the Commander said with a shrug, "An independent company of soldiers, they will take anyone, offering a clean slate in the eyes of the paragons in exchange for a noble death in battle."

Leliana nodded, she had heard of these people before, from her friend Tug. Several of his friends back in Orzammar had chosen to join the legion. He had accepted exile himself, and eventually came into Marjolaine's employ.

He had died during her betrayal.

Leliana shook her head, not was not the time to think about old friends, she needed to remain cold and collected, the deep roads killed all but the strong.

She…needed to be strong.

Shale chuckled to itself; it was pleased to know that there would be no birds in that dark place.

At least it had one redeeming feature.

The door to the deep roads creaked open like the door to an ancient tomb, the musty smell of rot and decay emerged.

Alim shuddered, his warden senses burned with the background taint emerging from those dark tunnels. He willed himself to ignore it, to try to keep focused for any approaching darkspawn.

In the deep roads he would be the only warden they had, the group's only warning before a spawn attack.

He sighed, mustering his courage.

He hoped that he was up to it.

Leliana stopped them before they proceeded inside; she dropped to her knees and raised her hands in prayer, asking that the Maker watch over them in this endeavor.

Shale and Sten both gave the woman an annoyed look, but the elf stopped them with a glare.

They were about to walk into deadly danger.

He might not be a believer himself, but he would be damned if anyone would interrupt her.

If she felt her faith protected her, let her believe it.

They would likely need all the protection they could get.

Straightening his hat and robes, he led the way, Bandit padding silently along beside him. The other followed silently behind them. Leliana followed between Sten and Shale, Oghren stayed close to Alim, his dwarven stone sense would serve them well in the dark.

The dwarf commander gave the signal.

The door to Orzammar closed with a resounding boom.

Alim could not help but jump, he cursed his weakness.

There was no turning back now.

He motioned the group forward.

They began their journey into the deep roads.

IOI

Alim was not sure how long they had walked before they finally stopped, it had seemed like hours, but that was no clear judge.

Time did not seem to flow right in these darkened tunnels.

The deep roads were a world all their own.

They had been attack only once that first day, a group of chubby genlocks. Their little fellowship had made quick work of the creatures. Oghren had impressed Alim; the dwarf was a terror with that battle ax. He was a storm all his own.

The man's skill brought a question to the elf's mind.

_Why had Branka left him behind?_

"Heeey Warden!" Oghren slurred.

Alim rolled his eyes; the dwarf had been drinking heavily from a water skin.

Alim should have realized that it likely contained no water.

"Yes Oghren?" he replied.

"Look at me," he snorted, "I'm an elf,"

The dwarf danced merrily.

The warden shook his head, he was certain somewhere above them thunder was rumbling.

"I love nature," the dwarf sang, "trees are pretty, tra-la-la."

Oghren belched loudly and collapsed, the sound of heavy snoring filled the air.

Alim shook his head maybe that was the reason that Branka had left her husband behind.

"Would it like me to squish the drunken midget?" Shale asked him.

Alim shook his head no, they still needed Oghren.

"Spoilsport," the golem huffed.

Alim snorted in amusement.

IOI

Sten agreed to take the first watch. Alim settled into his bed roll, Bandit already snoozing beside him.

His eyes wandered to Leliana.

The bard was settling down into her own bedroll, she slipped off her leather vest revealing a sleeveless white silken shirt, the muscle tone of her pale arms were clear, as well as the gold chain that bore the sign of the chantry around her slender neck. A chain that…

Alim's eyes widened, he…he looked away.

He was trying very hard not to stare.

_It…it was a little chilly down here…_

_He could see that she was not wearing a breast band._

_Nice one Surana, _he thought with a snort,_ let's not turn into some drooling lecher now._

He shifted uncomfortably in his bed roll.

_Maker save him, why did she have to be so…so…_

_So…__**her.**_

Before she lay down for the night, she drew out a small vial from her pack.

One of the anti-blight potions they had purchased in Orzammar, the soldiers they had bought it from swore by them. They were not the same as immunity to the taint, but they did hold back the general background sickness that filled the air.

Leliana made a face as she swallowed the foul stuff.

Alim did his best to suppress a smirk.

_She was cute even when she was not trying to be._

Leliana pulled out a long dagger from a sheath at her back; she slid it under her pillow for protection.

Only then did she sink into the bedroll with a tired sigh.

The bard must have noticed something

She glanced up, staring at him, she…she must have realized he had been watching her.

_Shit!_

_Say something quickly, stupid!_

"Remind me not to try and wake you in the morning," he said dryly, motioning to the blade.

She considered what he said. The bard smiled lightly.

"You don't need to worry," she replied, "I would not cut anything important."

"That still leaves a lot of room to maneuver," he said.

"Yes, it does," she said with a wolfish smile.

Alim laughed lightly.

"Remind me never to make you mad."

She shrugged; she snuggled closer to the tiny fire.

Hopefully, they would be able to get a few uninterrupted hours of sleep.

Provided the darkspawn dreams let him sleep of course, the elf thought.

He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

A snarky retort died on his lips, it…it was nice to know that she was concerned about him.

"Yeah," he said, "It…it is the taint down here, my warden senses are screaming at me. How do other wardens deal with sleeping in this place?"

"They probably have to get used to it," she shrugged.

"You're probably right," he said with a tired sigh.

She gave him a concerned look.

"Would you like me to stop talking?"

"Please don't," he said, "it is nice to have something to focus on beside my warden senses. Your voice…your voice is soothing,"

She laughed lightly at that.

He gave her a look.

"Did I say something funny?"

"No," she said grinning, "I…I was just thinking of how far we have come…since Lothering I mean…I…well…I thought you hated me back then."

Alim shifted uncomfortably, he…he had hated her back then, but not because of anything she had done or said…it…it had been stupid.

"When I was eight years old," he told her, "A chantry sister came to our home with two Templars. She spent hours talking to my mother, convincing her that I was not her son anymore. That my magic made me some kind of monster. When it came to time for the Templars to take me, the sister showed no compassion for either of us. My going to the circle was the Maker's will. She grew scared when I summoned a lightning bolt in my anger. One of her Templars cracked me over the head."

Leliana gasped.

"But…but you were just a child, a baby."

"I was an eight year old who could summon lightning," he said with a sigh, "I suppose they had a legitimate reason to be afraid of me. I needed to learn how to control my powers. I…I could not do that in Lothering. I…I just wish they could have been kinder about it, for me and her," Alim frowned, he gave Leliana a sad look, his ears drooped slightly.

"I blamed every sister I met for that night," he confessed, "That…that was why I was such a little prick to you back then."

"You weren't," she replied.

"Yes, I was," he sighed, "I…I let my feelings get in the way of the mission."

"You had good reason I think," She replied, "I love the Maker, and seek to do his work, but I recognize that many who serve him can be too self-righteous for their own good. When I told them about my beliefs, that the Maker reveals himself in the beauty of his world…they…they treated me with disdain. They want to believe that he is gone, so that when he looks upon them they feel special chosen. The Maker cannot possibly have love for all, the sick and the weary, the beggars and the fools."

"I'm not the greatest of believers myself," he confessed, "But…if I was…I would like to think your beliefs are the right ones."

She gave him a warm smile.

He felt himself blush slightly.

""It is kind of you to say," she said, "Perhaps I am wrong, but that is for the Maker to decide, not men…not the Chantry."

Alim nodded, he had to admit, he admired her strength…her spirit.

Never let the bastards get you down.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just looking into the flames.

"Leliana," he whispered.

"Yes…Alim," she replied.

Hearing her use his name started a fire in his belly; typically she just called him warden.

It was nice to hear his name in her sweet voice.

"I'm…" he was trying very hard not to stutter, "I'm grateful that you did not give up, that you forced your way onto our little quest. You…you are needed here…here with…m…us."

She reached out to him.

Their hands touched.

He felt a shock jump down his arm.

"It…It pleases me to hear you say that," she replied.

Shale let out a heavy sigh interrupting them, the golem glared at the two.

"Will the sister spend the entire time talking to it," Shale huffed, "Or will the two of you actually get some rest?"

Both elf and bard shifted away from each other, Leliana rolled over no longer facing him.

Alim glared at the golem.

Nice one, Shale, real nice!

"Shale is right Alim," she said, "We need to get some rest; we have a long way ahead of us."

Alim snorted, she was right, but that did not mean he had to like it. Tomorrow they would set out for the old Aeducan Thaig, Bhelen had suggested that they stop there, there was fresh water and hopefully untainted food stuffs, mushrooms and the like. It would take them a week at most to reach it, from there, they would strike out for Caradin's Cross, an old crossroads that would hopefully lead them to the Ortan Thaig. Oghren had told them that Branka had planned to stop and search there.

What she was looking for, the dwarf would not say yet, he was waiting until they picked up Branka's trail.

All and all, there journey should take only three weeks, four at the most.

In a month they would hopefully know Branka's fate and be on their way back to Orzammar.

Provided there were no surprises of course.

"You are right," he agreed, he lay his head back down, closed his eyes trying to fall asleep.

The warmth of Bandit so near him started to put him asleep.

"Goodnight, Leliana," he whispered.

He thought that she had not heard him, but then…just as he drifted off…

He heard her.

"Goodnight…Alim."


End file.
